Fortune's Might
by MyMoony
Summary: Set in PoA. Upon being presented with his newest and least favourite colleague, Severus struggles to keep the persistently friendly werewolf at arms length. He never asked for a friend, he never wanted to find a kindred spirit in an unlikely person, all he wanted was to be left in peace, thank you very much! But he soon discovers that Fortune has its very own plans for him. SS/RL
1. Lesson One: Fait Accompli

Title: **Fortune's Might**

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: I'll make it short. Thank you for taking the time to read this story. I'm always happy about attracting new readers, but I'm just as happy to welcome back those of you who have read some of my fanfic and perhaps even accompanied me on a very long **Journey** (I wonder if you'll be disappointed or pleased that my newest project after such a long hiatus isn't really new at all).

This fanfic is a rewrite of my 2010 fic **The Teacher** , and an attempt to perfect my favourite project yet. If you were to compare them, or if you've already read The Teacher, you'll find that **Fortune's Might** differs greatly from the original, not only regarding the new title and my improved style (I hope). Personally, I am very happy with the result, I hope you'll agree and maybe even let me know what you think. There'll be weekly updates every Saturday unless otherwise indicated. And now please enjoy **Fortune's Might**.

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 _Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;_  
 _Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,_  
 _Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,_  
 _And do not drop in for an after-loss:_  
 _Ah! do not, when my heart hath 'scaped this sorrow,_  
 _Come in the rearward of a conquered woe;_  
 _Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,_  
 _To linger out a purposed overthrow._  
 _If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,_  
 _When other petty griefs have done their spite,_  
 _But in the onset come: so shall I taste_  
 _At first the very worst of fortune's might;_  
 _And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,_  
 _Compared with loss of thee, will not seem so._

William Shakespeare, Sonnet 90

 **Lesson One: Fait Accompli**

Icy rain was falling. The coldness that spread over the grounds and up to Hogwarts Castle from the village of Hogsmeade was not of the natural kind that followed in dusk's wake when the warmth of the sun slowly departed, held only by stone, water, or grass. It was the breathing of the Dementors stationed outside the perimeter walls that spread this coldness, that sucked from the air not only the warmth of the summer's day, but also all the positive feelings that usually accompanied the many people streaming into the school on the first of September. Everybody in the castle and the village had different feelings about the Dementors, though it was certain that nobody was entirely pleased that they were there, some surely believed to be safer with them gliding about, searching for an escaped convict who was rumoured to be on his way to Hogwarts.

To Professor Severus Snape they meant horrible memories resurfacing, bringing with them guilt, shame, and grief that had been buried in the darkest corners of his mind under the rather less unpleasant memories and thoughts of the past twelve years. It was dreadful how he suddenly remembered the faces of people whose lives he had seen being snuffed out, how he could recall the looks on their faces and the sickening feeling that had filled him when he had cast the Killing Curse for the first time.

Severus Snape was a private man, he would not talk about those experiences to anyone, which, as the Headmaster had pointed out to him, probably made them so hard to bear. Albus Dumbledore did not need Severus to put into words what he felt when the Dementors drew near, he knew the horrors of Severus's past like no other and understood better than anyone why he wished them gone. Albus, too, harboured a deep loathing for the creatures, had seen things in his past that he did not want to return to him so clearly as they did with the Dementors outside the perimeter walls of Hogwarts Castle.

But other than Severus, Albus could conceal the effect they had on him rather well. Severus, so Minerva McGonagall had said just this morning upon seeing him for the first time after the summer holidays, had turned even more unpleasant and vicious with the Dementors around, but she didn't blame him, for, she admitted, she herself was in rather a miserable mood. They would have to get used to it, wouldn't they?

The silence in the dungeons seemed even more absolute than usual, the only sound to be heard were Severus's footsteps echoing off the stone walls as he walked swiftly up the stairs after having finished the final preparations for the new school year. He was colder than usual too, inside and out. The Entrance Hall seemed emptier, more desolate, and the corridors more deserted than usual. The year ahead of him felt even less promising than it usually did when Severus knew he would not teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, and he thought the annoyed frustration about the unknown new staff member and Albus's secrecy seemed even more pronounced and powerful than the anger and indignation at Lockhart's appointment a year ago. He knew those were illusions, but he could not push them away. The moment Severus entered the staff room, he saw that the other teachers felt the same way. Everybody wore miserable expressions, there was no laughter in the room, no cheery conversations after weeks and weeks of not having seen each other.

Severus sat down in his favourite armchair by the fire, a little apart from the others as usual, and stared into the flames, his ears filled with the hushed voices of his colleagues as his mind drifted into the distance, fastening on more negative thoughts about the coming school year. Usually Severus looked forward to the start of term, for he could escape the desolate surroundings of Spinner's End and return to his much more comfortable rooms in the dungeons. This year though, Harry Potter and his fellow Gryffindors weren't the only factors that darkened this prospect. All summer, the papers had been full of a man whom Severus had hoped never to lay eyes on again. When Sirius Black had been arrested those twelve years ago, Severus had felt a grim satisfaction that his childhood tormentor had got what he deserved. But fate had never been kind to Severus. Somehow, as the first wizard ever to achieve it, Black had escaped from Azkaban, and was now on his way to Hogwarts to kill Harry Potter, or so rumour had it.

But as angry as Black's face in the papers had made Severus throughout the summer, he also felt a vindictive anticipation when he thought about Black's target, Harry Potter, because Severus had once sworn to protect that boy and this time it would be his pleasure to stop Black and punish him, face to face, and prove to him who had the upper hand now. But what chance did he have to capture Black when there were Dementors all over the place? Surely Black would not even get close to the castle. The Dark Lord's right hand – ha! – all good and well, but Severus, who had been close to the Dark Lord, who had been in the inner circle, did not know magic that would help Black break through Dumbledore's protection.

Severus sighed as McGonagall sat down beside him, giving him a stern look. Working with his former teachers was sometimes tiresome, for they treated him like a student, like a child at times, even though he was Head of House himself. McGonagall would always give him those looks that she usually gave misbehaving students. But he thought she respected him. It was mutual. Severus's respect was earned, not given, and she had earned it well. But he hated it when she gave him that look that clearly meant to say that he was going to be told something unpleasant.

"Did the Headmaster tell you whom he has appointed Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" she asked and he shook his head slowly, quite tired of this topic. It was the twelfth year running now. Albus had refused him the post for the twelfth year running.

"He said he had found somebody else when I asked him whether he would finally consider me for the position," said Severus quietly, "and he assured me that the new candidate would be far better suited than Lockhart."

"To which you replied that that only meant that he was not a completely incapable fraud," said McGonagall with the shadow of a smile. Severus glanced at her and grew slightly suspicious.

"You've talked about me?" he asked. McGonagall did not reply. "I hoped that Dumbledore had finally run out of dunderheads to appoint, but apparently he has found yet another sorry soul who's volunteering to meet a tragic fate at the end of the school year. Another incompetent fool, no doubt."

McGonagall's lips thinned. "The Headmaster really didn't tell you who it is, then?" she asked and was unusually careful. Severus narrowed his eyes at her and shook his head again. "Well, you will find that he – oh, excuse me for a moment," she added and strode to the window. Severus turned his head towards it and saw an owl sitting outside, carrying a roll of parchment. McGonagall opened the window, letting in the rushing sound of the falling rain, and took the note. She unrolled it and walked unconsciously back to where Severus was sitting, shutting the window with a swish of her wand. A small smile flitted over her face before it was squashed by anger. "Ah, those horrible creatures," she muttered as she sat back down. "Thank God he was with the children."

"What?" said Severus impatiently and she looked up, giving him another stern look.

"The Dementors searched the school train and Potter fainted," she said shortly and Severus raised an eyebrow at her. "It was to be expected, I suppose. Fortunately, our new teacher is on the train, and he sent me this note." Again that mysterious smile conquered her lips for a moment. "His handwriting still is horrible." A reminiscent note lay in her voice as she slipped the piece of parchment into her pocket.

"So he isn't a secret, is he?" asked Severus, now more interested than ever in the new Professor. "Albus only didn't want _me_ to know who it is? Do tell me his name, then, Minerva, it must be somebody I know, else Dumbledore would not have bothered to keep it from me."

When Severus had arrived at Hogwarts Castle a few hours ago, he had thought that it would be another one of those years, during which he had to watch another idiot fighting his way through the Defence job, teaching the students nothing at all and annoying Severus immensely, while everyone knew that they would only stay for one year. The Headmaster had long run out of competent volunteers for the position. Lockhart had been the last straw. But apparently Albus believed that there was another person whom Severus would loathe so powerfully that telling him their name before term started meant risking open rebellion and far more trouble than it was worth.

But McGonagall did not yield the information. He saw her lips thinning as she got to her feet again. "The children are about to arrive, please excuse me, Severus, I need to inform Poppy so she can look after Potter when he arrives and I need to give Granger her Time-Turner," she said and started to walk away.

"Wait a moment," said Severus suspiciously, "what did that new teacher do when Potter fainted?"

McGonagall turned back to him and this time the smile stayed on her face. "He chased the Dementor away and handed out chocolate," she said simply and left the staff room. Severus scowled after her and tried to catch somebody else's eye but it seemed they had all been conditioned by Albus not to tell him anything. Maybe Albus thought he was being clever, but no matter whom he had found to fill the position, Severus would do his best to make sure that they had a very hard time at Hogwarts.

When some time later the buzzing voices of the arriving students reached the staffroom, everybody got ready for the feast and Professor Flitwick went to fetch the Sorting Hat because McGonagall was still tending to Potter and Granger, it seemed. Severus was just making to get to his feet when the door opened again and his colleagues all looked round to greet Dumbledore. Severus did not look round. He wanted to show Albus that he was still angry that he hadn't got the Defence job. Even though really being angry was becoming increasingly difficult, too much time had passed. It was merely a stubborn indignation now. But when the other teachers all approached the door, it was not Albus's voice that spoke to them but another man's. A voice that Severus could not seem to recognise despite its faintly familiar sound. He got to his feet, turned slowly round, and to his horror he found the reason why Albus had not told him the name of the new Defence teacher.

Just inside the door, looking rather astonished at the warm welcome he received, stood werewolf Remus Lupin. Albus had his hand on Lupin's shoulder, smiling behind his beard. Severus blinked to make sure that his eyes weren't playing a trick on him, but this was definitely Lupin, though Severus had not seen him in over twelve years, he knew his face well. True, he had changed rather strikingly, looking extremely shabby in his darned, threadbare robes, even more so because all the other teachers were wearing their very best. Lupin had grown older, his hair was greying, and he had a tired air about him, as though he hadn't slept in days, dark rings under his eyes – Severus registered briefly that last night had been the night of the full moon. Lupin was unhealthily thin, that much was evident even with the roomy robes that hung loosely round his frame. It was probably his condition taking its toll. But Severus could not care about such details now, when he finally had proof that Albus had gone mad.

Lockhart had merely been a desperate choice, there had been no one else who would have wanted to subject themselves to what was obviously a curse that ejected every DADA professor after a year of teaching, with more or less grave consequences. But employing a werewolf as DADA teacher, a werewolf, on top of everything, who had almost eaten Severus alive once, was not only questionable, it was outrageous and surely on the brink of being illegal! If the parents or the board of governors found out, Dumbledore would lose his job, no doubt. And Severus just couldn't believe that the other teachers had agreed to this, some of them having been teachers in Severus's time, like Flitwick and McGonagall, and therefore knowing full well what that man in front of them was. Had nobody objected to his employment? Had nobody been concerned about the children? Had nobody believed that this person might help Black into the castle, his old friend, possibly his accomplice? Had nobody remembered that this man had once been part of the gang that had made Severus's school days hell?

But judging by the way they all greeted Lupin interestedly, they were either unaware of his condition or they did not care. Severus strongly suspected that Albus had not told everybody about Lupin's lycanthropy, for he could not believe that so many of his colleagues were free of prejudice or fear. True enough, Lupin did not look remotely frightening. In fact he looked positively amiable the way he smiled mildly at everybody who shook his hand. Severus could have strangled him with his bare hands right then and there.

He did not care that it was obvious that life had not been kind to Lupin. No life could be unkind enough to atone for what he had done to Severus, no punishment would have been hard enough to erase Severus's bitterness. How dare he walk in here with that nonchalant smile and that self-confident air and snatch away Severus's job? Had he no decency? Had he no shame? Momentarily, Severus's anger about Black, Potter, and the Dementors was wiped away by a wave of loathing as Lupin's tired eyes turned on him and his smile twitched as he cocked his head to the side and his greying hair fell into his forehead. For an instant, Severus thought that something about this was unusual and he realised that Lupin had never looked at him directly at school, never met his eyes, always averted his own. But now he seemed bold, unafraid of Severus's wrath. Perhaps Albus had told him that Severus wouldn't make a scene in front of the other teachers, but that had been a big mistake.

That was typical of Albus. He hadn't even asked Severus for his consent, knowing that he wouldn't receive it. But he couldn't do this to Severus. Severus deserved respect, he deserved to be informed of such decisions as this, he ought to be consulted like the other Heads of Houses when a werewolf was appointed to teach his students and live under the same roof as them! What was Albus playing at, summoning this man out of nowhere? Surely he just wanted to annoy Severus thoroughly, he would think it amusing. Perhaps he had merely forgotten that Lupin had almost killed Severus, had played a lethal prank on him with his good-for-nothing friends and found it unnecessary to live up to his prefect's badge and stop them tormenting Severus. In Albus's memory there was only room for his precious Gryffindor favourites, who had assured him that they felt sorry for almost killing Severus on purpose.

Positively fuming with those thoughts, Severus strode towards Lupin and Albus, who were still standing at the door, chatting with the other teachers, and knocked a few of his colleagues out of the way as others retreated, noticing the murderous look on his face. As he drew nearer, he attracted Albus's attention and the Headmaster's eyes twinkled annoyingly as he spoke.

"Ah, Severus! May I present you with our new Defence Against the –"

"So this was your brilliant plan?" Severus cut across him angrily, jerking his head at Lupin. "Telling me nothing about him until it was already too late for me to object? While everybody else was informed you kept me in the dark! Do you consider this a proper way of treating one of your Heads of Houses?"

"Do you think your objection would have made a difference, Severus?" asked Albus pleasantly, surveying him over his half-moon spectacles, and Severus was very close to jinxing him. He must look dangerous, too, since the sparse rest of his colleagues backed off now, knowing how unpleasant he could be.

But all the while, Lupin showed no sign of intimidation or caution. Though he seemed mildly surprised, he did not move an inch but merely raised his eyebrows, glancing at Albus as his face gave away a trace of dawning comprehension and disapproval. "I take it you did not tell Severus about my appointment, Headmaster?" he said hoarsely. He sounded different, too, much older, and his calm resolution in the face of Severus's anger bore no resemblance to the boy he had once been. "I thought he had been informed. You said he had agreed to –"

"How daft must you be to think that I would _ever_ agree to _your_ appointment?" snapped Severus, whose anger was only multiplied by Lupin's calmness. Lupin raised his eyebrows higher and the corners of his mouth twitched, but he did not respond. Severus thought he detected amusement in the wrinkles round Lupin's eyes and found him an impertinent dunderhead.

"Severus," Albus said in a warning tone. "Neither of you would have agreed if you had known the truth. So I – ah – warped the facts a little."

Severus wanted to make a retort but then something popped into his mind. During the summer holidays, Albus had approached him about a new discovery made in the field of lycanthropy potions that Severus had tried to ignore stubbornly because it had been made by the show-off Damocles Belby and earned him an Order of Merlin: the Wolfsbane Potion, that rendered a werewolf harmless at the full moon when drunk during the week preceding it, having the effect of keeping the werewolf in his right mind even when in the wolf's body. Albus had asked whether Severus had heard of it, for it was quite sensational, and if he thought he could brew it, since it seemed quite a complex potion to make. Severus had, of course, shot him a venomous look and replied, "Brew it? I could improve it to ten times the quality it has now. Whatever Belby thought he was doing, presenting the world with this piece of imperfect brewery …"

In other words, "Whatever Belby can do, I can do better!" But really, how could he have foreseen that Albus was asking him that question for such a purpose as this? Moreover, Albus obviously expected him to dedicate his precious time to the well-being of a werewolf who had not only been part of Black and Potter's bullying gang but also knowingly tried to kill him as a teenager. He could not possibly believe that Severus would take it just like that.

"I am astounded that you did not even warn me, that you did not even ask me if I'd be willing to sacrifice my free time to –"

"Quite frankly, Severus," interrupted Albus, his voice rising slightly to drown Severus's, "I had no interest in being badgered by you all over the summer with complaints, threats and reproaches merely because I did a Headmaster's duty and appointed a new teacher for a vacant post. I much rather wanted the two of us to enjoy a quiet summer without ill feelings. For you must believe me that, though I do value your opinion, none of your objections to this particular choice of staffing would have changed anything about my resolution to appoint Remus." He paused, smiled at Lupin, who was looking between Albus and Severus with raised eyebrows and twitching lips, apparently unsure whether to smile or not in the face of Severus's indignation. "And I would consider your extraordinary skill wasted if you didn't use them benevolently at least once in your life, my boy," added Albus when Severus took a deep breath to argue again.

"You are making a severe mistake, Headmaster, in appointing this man," said Severus forcefully, pointing at Lupin and shooting him a look of deepest contempt that he deflected with a calm smile. "And if you think that you can force me to –"

"Severus," Albus cut in, now applying a tone that was dangerous in its coldness. Severus fell silent at once, but glared at Lupin relentlessly. "I chose the one man that I thought best for the job. It was my decision and if I remember correctly I am the Headmaster of this school and that is why you will accept my decision and do what you are told, I think I deserve that much respect. And now enough of your complaints!"

Severus was fuming. He hated being told off. But he did not dare say anything more on the topic. "You spoke to the other teachers, then?" he pressed and now Lupin did look a little apprehensive as he, too, looked round at Albus. Apparently he feared that Albus had "warped the facts" concerning this detail, too.

"I spoke to the other Heads of Houses," said Albus with a nod to Professor Sprout, who was watching the scene, and Professor Flitwick, who was just passing the staffroom with the Sorting Hat, "and with the assurance that I would take full responsibility, they agreed to let him have a try. I told them and Remus that you would brew the Wolfsbane Potion for him, to the best of your ability if I know you, to keep Remus safe at the full moon. That is the sole condition Remus set for coming here and since I have full trust and confidence in you, Severus, I also have full trust and confidence in Remus's ability to teach here, as one of us. As for most of the other teachers, as well as the students, I must ask you to remember the promise you once made to keep Remus's condition a secret. Needless to mention that I would find it rather extraordinarily tactless if any of us addressed the topic in any kind of public conversation anyway."

Severus looked from one to the other of them in stubborn silence for a few moments, taking in Albus's demanding gaze and Lupin's expectant look, then he jerked his head in defiant consent, seeing no way around it. Lupin looked relieved and smiled all the more warmly at Severus, who gave him his coldest, most scathing glare. But it had no effect whatsoever on the werewolf. Even Lupin's mere sight made Severus sick. The kindness in his eyes in the face of Severus's anger was plainly provocative. Severus was sure it was meant to be. He wondered how Albus imagined this to work.

"Excellent, Severus! Naturally I shall provide you with all the ingredients you need and of course you will be relieved of certain other duties to make time for the brewing of Remus's Potion. I do hope that you two will be able to work alongside each other in peace," added Albus sharply and Severus gave him an incredulous look that Albus did not miss. "I do rely on you, Severus, and I hope that you will not disappoint me."

Severus stared daggers at him for this aside. He knew that it was a warning of the Dumbledorish kind. "I shall do my best, Headmaster," Severus pressed between clenched teeth and with balled fists.

"I never doubted that, Severus," replied Albus nodding, but though Lupin's face gave away no doubt, his eyes flickered towards the Headmaster, and Severus knew that he had not been so sure about Severus doing his best until a moment ago. In an instant, though, Lupin had covered this up and looked at Severus with gratitude quite plain and disgusting on his face.

"Well, then I thank you very much, Severus," he said hoarsely and with a familiarity that Severus found highly inappropriate when it was so clear that contempt was radiating from him. But Lupin did have the sense not to extend his hand to shake Severus's. So he must be able to read the situation but was stubborn enough to keep up the friendly politeness.

"I am not doing this for you," said Severus coldly, looking him straight in the eye, finding an amber colour that he had never noticed there nor seen in anybody else's eyes before. "I am merely doing my duty," he added in a snarl and now glared daggers at Lupin instead of Albus. But Lupin seemed entirely unaffected and merely raised his eyebrows again with that amused light playing around his eyes.

"I thank you nonetheless," he said mildly, and for a moment Severus wondered if this really was the boy he had known, for he seemed so different.

Lupin was relaxed and self-assured, he did not avert his eyes when Severus looked into them, he did not back down. But at the same time he was not offensive or aggressive, the provocation lay in his unwaveringly calm smile itself, not in his behaviour, which was friendly and quite at ease. He did not attack, he merely stood his ground come what may, or so it seemed to Severus, he was steadfast and would bend to nobody. Like a rock in the middle of a stream would not budge when water rushed towards it, no matter how wild or strong. It commanded a strange kind of respect in Severus that he could not fight. People who would not back down when he confronted them always had that effect on him. But it was not the same defiance that McGonagall sported. It was quiet and gentle, surreptitious and taciturn. One less attentive than Severus would miss it. But to him it was clearly visible in that determined smile, never changing, that was curling the werewolf's lips so mysteriously into a silent mask that was much less obvious than Severus's, much less obtrusive. And despite himself, Severus wished he could prise it off and see what lay beyond it.

"Ah, Remus, Minerva told me about the Dementor on the train and that you fought it," said Albus pleasantly into the stretching silence and Severus noticed that he was staring at Lupin, who was gazing back quite steadily. Severus averted his eyes before he could stop himself, scowling around the room in the attempt of making it look as though he had merely been unable to bear Lupin's sight any longer. But something told him that Lupin knew he had just gained a first small victory.

"Yes, but unfortunately Harry had already fainted, and he was quite shaken when his friends woke him," said Lupin, sounding grim for the first time. "Of course I had some chocolate on me, just in case. But the damage had been done, the children were quite shocked, and I believe you know as well as I what Harry must have felt when that wretched creature entered the compartment. It is irresponsible to let them loose on the students, Sirius Black on the run or not."

"I quite agree," said Albus gravely and Severus looked round at them, two Gryffindors in greatest worry about the bloody Potter brat. "But I could not refuse. At least I managed to prevent them coming into the grounds. I am glad you were with the children, Remus, who knows what would have happened if you hadn't been there to help. I trust Minerva has already thanked you?"

"Oh, yes," replied Lupin and looked both abashed and pleased, "I met her right inside the castle, just briefly. I was very pleased to see her again."

"And she to see you, trust me," said Albus, his eyes twinkling. "She was very concerned about the safety of her students –"

"Student," interjected Severus and they both looked at him, Lupin amused, Albus scolding.

"Well, now that we have resolved this," said Albus with a significant look between Severus and Lupin, "I believe we could all do with a good dinner. Let us go to the Great Hall," he added loudly to the other teachers and he led the way through the doors, followed by the staff.

But Lupin did not move, he nodded at the teachers passing him, all of whom seemed rather fond of him already, but stayed put himself, standing opposite Severus with his smile back in place. Severus stayed where he was, narrowing his eyes at Lupin, and expected him to have something more to say to him. Curiosity had got the better of him now, and when he searched the werewolf's amber eyes, he found that his mind was rather tightly closed, impossible to penetrate for Severus without the werewolf noticing. It awoke his interest. What lay hidden behind that smile, those eyes? When the last of their colleagues had left the staffroom, something odd happened to Lupin's smile. It changed quite suddenly, became so different that it startled Severus for a moment. In an instant it had changed so entirely without any real physical change to it that Severus wondered if he imagined it.

"I hope we will get along well," said Lupin, inclining his head in an amicable way that made Severus snort.

"Hope can be treacherous," he retorted silkily, folding his arms tightly over his chest.

Lupin's smile widened and he shrugged. "And it never dies," said he and his voice was soft. Then he chuckled and again Severus had the impression that he was quite at ease and enjoying himself. At Severus's expense no doubt. His chuckle was quite husky and Severus wondered what it was that made the man so hoarse. Underneath the premature lines and grey hair Lupin looked young and handsome. But he appeared very tired indeed, worn, like a miner at the end of the day, a miner who had not eaten in days.

But Severus was far from pitying him. He felt positively livid. Lupin could not possibly be labouring under the delusion that Severus could just forget what had happened between them. The fact that Lupin would almost have had to remove what remained of Severus from between his teeth was too serious to just push it aside and act as though nothing had happened. It was unimaginable that Lupin actually believed that they could "get along well". Severus would pay him back with contempt for every single second that he had to spare for brewing that highly complex Potion, which prevented the werewolf destroying his rooms. Besides, Severus didn't like the fact that there was now yet another person at Hogwarts who remembered him as a helpless, worthless boy.

But most shocking of all was perhaps that, despite his hatred for the man, Severus could not help noticing the curve of his jaw, the unwavering smile and the twitching in the corners of his mouth, but most of all the magnificent amber colour of his eyes, twinkling much like Albus's, shining golden in the candlelight, as more than merely agreeable. He appreciated this kind of handsomeness, enhanced by the lines the past years had carved into Lupin's skin and the silver streaks it had painted into his light brown hair. It was the kind that would have caught his eye had he passed the werewolf in the street, unaware of his identity. Notwithstanding the shabbiness of his robes, the tired expression, the unhealthily thin frame, the dark rings under his eyes. Lupin was the kind of man who looked nonchalantly, effortlessly handsome even when ill. Whose smile captured Severus's eyes and would not let them go again.

Severus wanted to make it disappear, he couldn't bear it. "Life hasn't been kind to you, has it, Lupin?" he said smoothly as Lupin made to turn away. Lupin stopped but made no reply. He seemed to be waiting for more to come. "I would have thought that you'd at least buy yourself a new set of robes for tonight."

Lupin turned slowly round, his smile still twitching mysteriously. He met Severus's glare quite steadily with his astonishingly amber eyes. Yes, amber, indeed, not usual brown. But that was neither here nor there. Still there was something in them, some strange light that almost made Severus back off. "It means nothing to me," said Lupin, cocking his head to the side again. "It surprises me that it does to you." He said it quite calmly but Severus couldn't help feeling uneasy.

As Lupin turned, his smile widening still, Severus thought he looked as though he wore those patched robes like ermine and purple round his shoulders and that impression did not cease when he glanced at him at the High Table, sitting rather far away from him. Even though he looked even shabbier in the Great Hall, with its gold plates and everybody in their best robes, he had an air about him like a weary king, surrounded by his noisy entourage. One could have thought he was wearing the most magnificent robes of all, for all it seemed to matter to him. Remus Lupin seemed to be looking past such sordid matters as appearance, had learnt, perhaps, that it made no difference how expensive or handsome one's clothes were if they concealed a rotten character. And maybe it was what people called "inner beauty" that enhanced his outer appearance. Severus shook his head at the thought. Ridiculous.

Lupin looked as though he was quite happy where he was, sitting beside Flitwick, chatting with him rather animatedly. Severus found that he was insolent for showing so openly that he relished the position that should have been Severus's when it was Severus who enabled him to work at Hogwarts. Shooting loathing glances down the table at Lupin, Severus wondered how he could manage to get rid of him without actually laying hands on him. Albus would know if he did. But having to associate with Lupin for a whole year, not least of all because of the Wolfsbane, was promising to make this year an especially unpleasant one. Not even the prospect of catching Black could lighten Severus's mood. Dementors, werewolves, and murderers everywhere. It couldn't be a coincidence that Lupin turned up now of all times, when Black was on his way to Hogwarts. Albus must see this connection, he could not be so blind, this werewolf could not be trusted, Albus had seen what he was capable of even at a young age.

After the feast, Severus returned to his rooms, frustrated and tired. He shed his robes on his way to bed and fell into the sheets with a heavy sigh. What if Lupin helped Black to kill Potter? How would Albus feel then about his decision to appoint Lupin instead of Severus? Not that Severus didn't approve of any plan that involved Potter's untimely death. He sighed again. No, this wasn't about Black or Potter, this was about the fact that Albus had appointed a man who had helped making Severus's adolescence the most unpleasant and humiliating time of his life. He felt betrayed. He would have to talk to Albus. First thing in the morning.

He pulled the blanket over his head and closed his eyes. And thought of Lupin's face. He couldn't help it. This was something irrational that couldn't be suffocated by his dislike. It was inexplicable. There was something in those eyes and that smile, in that mild face that made Severus feel … no, impossible, he shouldn't even think about that. But it was there, no doubt, a feeling he couldn't suppress, fueled by that involuntary respect Lupin commanded. It was inappropriate and unwanted. But something about Lupin had Severus see him even when his eyes were closed. And his mere sight made his anger cease, replaced by a burning curiosity and a wish to figure him out. He had felt it before, at school. And yet he hated the man, he loathed him for it. And now he had to bear his terribly relaxed behaviour and his annoyingly mysterious smiles. There was nothing he could do about it. But as he lay there, drifting off to sleep, his last irrational thought was that he might not want Lupin to go away at all, at least not before he had unraveled the mystery behind those defiant smiles.


	2. Lesson Two: Battle of Wills

Title: **Fortune's Might**

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: Thank you Chase'sGirl19 (first review!) and Emily-pino (so great that you're still around!) for the kind reviews, great to have you back :). As promised, here is chapter 2, enjoy!

* * *

 **Lesson Two: Battle Of Wills**

Severus woke early next morning and used the time before breakfast to catch Albus off guard and confront him again about Lupin. He did not want to leave him a chance to prepare for this interview, though he feared that Albus had spent the summer thinking up arguments in favour of Lupin's appointment. No matter what Severus came up with, Albus would surely be ready for it. But if Severus did not try, he would not have done whatever he could. It seemed as though his brain had sorted his own arguments overnight, providing him with a whole arsenal of well-founded objections to Lupin's appointment. Severus supposed that Albus had already been made aware of them by McGonagall and the other Heads of Houses but they were not as vicious or resolute as Severus was.

It was so early that Severus only came across very few students on his way to the Headmaster's office and his shadow was so long that it stretched all across the corridor when he passed the windows, through which the rising sun was illuminating the stone in pale rose. Severus gazed out over the grounds and found a black dot that was Hagrid, already at work in the patch behind his hut. The greenhouses were glittering in the sunlight, the Forest and the lawns were quite still, no life stirring in the grounds apart from the Whomping Willow, which was swaying slightly without the need for wind as though enjoying itself. Severus remembered very vividly the night when he had descended into the tunnel that was located beneath it, sent there by Sirius Black to find his death at the jaws of the werewolf who was now teaching here. Nowadays he thought he must have been extremely curious as to Lupin's secret to do something that Black told him to do. But he had been young and Lupin had been a challenging mystery. Keeping to himself the secret he had unraveled had been more than difficult for him back then. When he thought of what Lupin's shabby robes, he believed that the secrecy had not helped him a lot. But perhaps he would look even worse if those who knew had not kept their silence about it.

Severus arrived at the Headmaster's office without really noticing that he had reached the corridor. As he uttered the password ("Chocolate Frog") the gargoyle guarding the winding stairs hopped aside to let him pass. The door at the top of the stairs swung open of its own accord when Severus knocked. He entered, looking around at Albus's whirring and puffing silver instruments and the countless portraits on the circular walls that were still sleeping at this early hour. Just as well, Severus did not like their unqualified remarks when he was speaking to the Headmaster about such a very delicate matter. The sun was now properly rising over the trees of the Forbidden Forest and its light was blinding Severus as it was reflected by the glass case in which the sword of Gryffindor had been residing ever since the Boy Who Had Only Just Lived had pulled it out of the Sorting Hat in the Chamber of Secrets before the holidays.

"Ah, good morning, Severus," said Albus suddenly, apparently having only just realised that Severus was there, as he looked up from a few letters lying on his desk, "yes, I thought you would come to see me. Please, sit down my boy." He indicated the chair opposite him with a cordial smile, though Severus was sure Albus knew why he had come.

"Good morning, Headmaster," said Severus smoothly, but he remained standing beside the chair, "I wanted to speak to you again about Lupin's appointment."

Albus did not answer but waved his wand, conjuring a teakettle, which started whistling at once, two cups, and a tin of tealeaves, which were ladled into the cups by a spoon soaring through the air. Albus did not believe in doing anything by hand. Especially when reading. When his blue eyes found Severus's, he gave his wand another wave and the chair beside Severus slid back a few inches. "Do have a seat, Severus," he said pleasantly, "sherbet lemon?" And he held out a tin with yellow sweets in it.

"No, thank you," growled Severus indignantly, folding his arms, and remained standing.

"Would you prefer something else?" asked Albus, rummaging around in one of the drawers of his desk. "I could offer you some rather delicious ginger newts – Minerva gave them to me just yesterday."

" _No, thank you_ ," repeated Severus and narrowed his eyes at the Headmaster, "I have not come here to eat sweets or to drink tea. I wish to express my concern about your decision to appoint Lupin. I believe that you would do well to reconsider."

"Really?" asked Albus, seeming entirely unconcerned and only mildly interested.

"Yes," replied Severus firmly, tapping his foot on the ground, "really. I cannot believe that you would simply dismiss all the reasons not to appoint him simply because you like him. He is a werewolf –"

"Which, if I remember correctly, is no reason not to appoint him," interrupted Albus, still rather pleasantly, "since you agreed to brew the Wolfsbane Potion, which will make him perfectly harmless … unless you do no longer feel up to the task … in which case I would order it directly from Damocles Belby and compliment him on inventing the first potion I have ever known my Potions master to be incapable of brewing."

"I _can_ brew the blasted Potion," said Severus coldly, for the only thing that made this arrangement bearable was that he had Lupin at his mercy. Never would Severus let Albus run away with the illusion that he was in any way incapable of brewing any potion. He wanted him and Lupin to know exactly that they depended on him and that they were in his debt … well, maybe not Albus, but definitely Lupin.

"Well, then I see no problem, do you?" asked Albus but did not wait for an answer before he poured Severus a cup of tea and pushed it over the table. "Cup of tea? And do sit down, please, Severus."

"But I do see a problem," said Severus, ignoring him stubbornly. "Headmaster, what about the parents? If they find out you will be in serious trouble."

"I think we agree that they will not find out, since everybody who could tell them has been sworn to secrecy, have they not, my boy?" asked Albus, a note of warning in his voice that only Severus would hear. Severus jerked his head in reluctant consent and Albus nodded, obviously satisfied that they agreed on that point. "So, no need to worry about me, though I do feel touched that you do. I am taking full responsibility and I stand by my choice. Remus Lupin is the right man for the job and his condition is no reason for us to mistrust him, in fact we have no right to judge him. You and I least of all. He is not the kind of savage werewolf you have encountered in the vicinity of Lord Voldemort. I am the Headmaster, which means that I am the one who has to consider the consequences of my actions, which I have done thoroughly as you might imagine, seeing that I am unconcerned and quite at ease. Not to worry. Drink your tea before it turns cold, Severus."

Severus's face darkened and he refused to comply. "Even if you are right and Lupin is no threat –"

"I have no doubt that you will make sure of that, you are, after all, and extraordinary Potioneer," Albus remarked and Severus's lips twitched treacherously.

"Flattery is not going to help you now, Headmaster," said Severus silkily. "There is still the issue of Sirius Black. Lupin and Black are old friends, how can you be sure that Lupin won't help Black – let him into the castle for instance – to accomplish his mission of killing Harry Potter? Don't you think it highly unwise to place your trust in him and give him unhindered access to the students now of all times?"

Albus gave him a warning look and Severus felt uncomfortably cowed. "I trust the man completely, Severus. I have learned from the past that trusting Sirius Black and not Remus Lupin was a mistake. I won't make it twice."

But Severus did not think that distrusting someone was ever a bad idea if one wasn't sure – and one could almost never be sure – if the person was trustworthy. And it did not matter that in reality his sole aim was to get rid of Lupin, notwithstanding his trustworthiness or lack thereof. "What tells us, though, that he hasn't been Black's accomplice all along?" he pressed, on even though he saw Albus's understanding smile. "What if you were _not_ wrong to mistrust him in the first place?"

"You want him to be guilty for any price, do you not, Severus?" said Albus shrewdly, putting the very tips of his fingers together and giving him that very same look that he had given him after the full moon when Lupin had almost eaten him in their fifth year. That day he had said the exact same words to him upon making him swear not to tell anyone about Lupin's condition. Severus had been just as angry, just as eager to get rid of the werewolf. Not because he was a werewolf – he would have hated him just as much if he had been just another boy – but because of what he had done to him. Albus sighed as Severus did not reply. "Why don't you let it rest, Severus, instead of wasting your energy thinking up unlikely scenarios that might make Remus look suspicious? Don't you think it is time to forget that old grudge of yours?"

"This has nothing to do with – I am not here because –" Severus stopped and grumbled at Albus's expectant expression. "I'm going to be the one who has to deal with him, even though you know full well that I hate him, I will have to sacrifice my time for his Potion. I only want to make sure that he doesn't open the front doors to a mad mass murderer while I am making an effort to make sure he doesn't harm anyone. Isn't it an extraordinary coincidence that Lupin turns up here now, when his old friend is on the run? I could keep an eye on him, like I did on Quirrel. Make sure that he doesn't eat –"

" _Severus_ ," said Albus and his voice was giving away impatient anger, "sit down!" And this time Severus complied, though grudgingly. "Listen closely now, dear boy, because I am only going to say it once: I appointed Remus Lupin because I think that he is the best man to protect Harry and the one man that I trust not to help Black. Let me finish," Albus said when Severus opened his mouth to contradict him. "Yes, he was Sirius Black's friend but you forget that he was also James and Lily's and of course Peter Pettigrew's friend and because of that I am sure he will do all he can to help us protect the Potters' son. He did not ask for this position, he was quite uneasy with the thought at first. But to him it is an obligation and an honour and he assured me he would take the task seriously. Apart from that, he's always been a good teacher, he has a gift only few of us possess," he paused to sip on his tea but Severus didn't dare speak again. "And have you never considered that I wanted Remus here _because_ Black escaped from Azkaban? I have my very own reasons for his appointment. And you of all people should know that I never place my trust lightly. So you see, I've thought it through quite thoroughly."

Severus rubbed the underside of his left forearm self-consciously, thinking that, no matter what he said now, it would bring up the topic of his own trustworthiness and the circumstances that had brought him to this school, and he had no desire to talk about that. He should have foreseen this outcome. But it had been worth a try, though it had made him feel slightly uncomfortable. He had once been the one to receive Albus's trust when nobody else would have trusted him. But maybe that was one reason why he did not want Lupin to be granted the same mercy. He jerked his head, clearing his mind of those thoughts. Then, very slowly, he took a sip of the much too sweet tea Albus had poured him and reached for the tin of sherbet lemons, taking one out and rolling it between his fingers.

"Very well, Headmaster," he said softly, meeting Albus's eyes, "I still don't believe that it was wise to appoint Lupin, and I cannot guarantee that I will be able to refrain from telling him so … but I shall respect your decision."

Albus beamed, all anger forgotten, it seemed. "Excellent, Severus, I knew you would not disappoint me. It is not as though I was asking you to become friends after all. Have some more tea," he said and poured them both more tea.

"Thank you, Headmaster," said Severus quietly and popped the sherbet lemon into his mouth, thinking defiantly that he would never become friends with _Lupin_ , even if his life depended on it. The rest of their meeting was spent mostly with light conversation and some pleasant silence until they descended to the Great Hall together to have breakfast.

As they walked towards the High Table together, Albus greeted Lupin, who was already seated beside Professor Flitwick, and Lupin returned the gesture with a tired but visibly satisfied smile. Severus rolled his eyes and wished the werewolf would just go away. Albus chortled and leant in to whisper into Severus's ear. "Try not to be too rude to him," he said and Severus glared.

"Do not ask too much, Dumbledore," growled Severus as they sat down next to each other, "there are limits to everything."

Albus just chortled on and his mood was far too good for Severus's taste. To his left, Severus caught a few snippets of Lupin's conversation with Flitwick that told him that the werewolf had already charmed at least one of his colleagues out of his wits. A professional conversation about Charms, a reminiscence of Lupin's excellent Charms OWL and NEWT, and a discussion about the Patronus Charm, all before breakfast had ended. Severus counted himself very lucky that his own subject had always been Lupin's worst. He would not have to fear a forced conversation about Potions with him. But Flitwick seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. And so did Professor Babbling of Ancient Runes as Severus passed her and Lupin in the corridor, conversing between classes about recent findings of ancient texts. And when Severus whisked into the staff room before lunch, he found Professor Sprout talking animatedly to the werewolf about growing magical plants in his back garden.

That man was slowly infiltrating the staff and quite successfully so. Before it was even noon, Severus distinctly heard Flitwick telling Albus that Lupin was a "delightful boy", while McGonagall called him a valuable and pleasant addition to the staff, only topped off by Vector assuring Albus that Lupin's company was worthwhile and stimulating. Lockhart must have left them all with very low standards. Beside him, Lupin, with his air of modest competence, subtle sense of humour, and kind friendliness must seem quite a pleasant colleague. Severus wasn't blinded by that, though. Anger building in Severus's stomach, it came as extremely annoying news that on the first day of term, Draco Malfoy had been attacked by Hagrid's favourite hippogriff, meaning unpleasant post from his father Lucius, no doubt. Draco, of course, made a big show of it all, though his arm was not severely injured as Madam Pomfrey assured Severus over Draco's wailing.

As he sat in the staffroom in the afternoon, trying to relax and let go of today's indignation, he heard McGonagall and Lupin entering the room, talking about the Gryffindor third-years' first Transfiguration class of term. They sat down close to Severus, which brought back the indignation in an instant, and he prayed for self-control as Lupin smiled at him.

"They were distracted all lesson," said McGonagall with some irritation in her voice, "and when they didn't applaud at my Animagus transformation, I knew that something was wrong. I mean, not that I would complain, but you've seen it, too, usually when a class sees it for the first time, they always applaud."

Severus snorted and she shot him a severe look, her nostrils flaring, her mouth thinning. Lupin, sitting opposite him, did not react, but averted his eyes for a moment as though to hide his thoughts. Then he focused his attention on McGonagall again, folding his hands on the table as she went on.

"Then Hermione Granger told me that they had had their first Divination class and of course I knew what was wrong. Sybill had predicted another death – Sybill Trelawney, of course you haven't met her yet and, though you will not hear me speak badly of any of my colleagues," she paused to give Severus a pointed look at which he snorted again, "you would be lucky if it remained that way. She predicts a death every year, you see. It's a kind of wicked ritual of hers with which she greets her new classes."

At this, Lupin chuckled lightly and his husky voice sent an involuntary shiver down Severus's spine. He retaliated with a glare that Lupin registered but only answered with a quizzically raised eyebrow and another one of those smiles. This man was more annoying than anyone Severus had ever met. And that was saying something.

"She did this to the teachers, too, you know, twelve years ago, when she and Severus joined the staff," said McGonagall and Severus glared at her instead, "I believe it was Severus, whose death she predicted, but, alas, as you can see, he is still in full health. I fear she only expressed her dislike for him like that, isn't that right, Severus, she always seemed less than fond of you."

"Did you just say 'alas'?" asked Severus jerkily and Lupin chuckled his husky chuckle again, causing an almost visible shiver in Severus. "Shouldn't a Deputy Headmistress be a little more diplomatic?"

"Diplomacy isn't part of my job description, which means that even you could become Deputy, if you cared enough to apply," retorted McGonagall and Severus challenged her to a glaring match.

He had no desire to remind her of the topic of Trelawney not liking him, for the reason was private and he wasn't likely to tell those two Gryffindors about it. Trelawney remembered, of course, that Severus had once eavesdropped on her job interview with Dumbledore in the Hog's Head. Why this was so significant, she had no idea, she had merely found him rude, impertinent perhaps. Her opinion of him had never improved since.

After a few moments, Lupin cleared his throat – to no effect – and interrupted their match, to be continued some other time, Severus and McGonagall agreed silently. "And whose death has she predicted this time?" he asked hoarsely, shaking his greying hair out of his amber eyes as they flitted into Severus's direction.

"Oh, surely you can guess, Remus, which boy in third year attracts bad luck like gold attracts Nifflers?" said McGonagall irritably, her eyes directed at the ceiling, surely maledicting Trelawney many floors above in the North Tower.

"Not Harry?" asked Lupin, now frowning.

"Of course, who else!" replied McGonagall exasperatedly. "I suppose she just couldn't resist the temptation. That boy must be like a gift from the gods to her. She was never anything short of insensitive. As though Potter wasn't troubled enough with Black on the loose and all the other things he has gone through. Predicting his death was the height of –" she made an annoyed noise in the back of her throat, then she continued in a calmer voice, "Of course I told him he had nothing to fear, so I hope he won't dwell on it."

"I wouldn't mind if this time her prediction proved to be right for a change," Severus said, causing the other two to look at him disbelievingly. McGonagall's face darkened and Lupin raised his eyebrows.

"Don't talk such nonsense, Severus," barked McGonagall and turned back to Lupin. "Don't take him seriously, those are empty words. He likes to give Potter a hard time but he would never want him dead. Still, Severus exceeds even Sybill in terms of insensitivity."

"Maybe he could just almost die," suggested Severus and McGonagall rolled her eyes. "He is good at that, isn't he? Good riddance …" he muttered under his breath. Lupin glanced at him but turned his attention back to McGonagall without commenting Severus's words. He was lucky he didn't. He knew when to shut his mouth. That would make their cooperation much easier.

"But how did Professor Trelawney predict Harry's death?" he asked, sounding sceptical. "Did she have a vision?"

"She saw the Grim in his tealeaves," sighed McGonagall wearily, "or so she says."

Suddenly Lupin seemed alert. "The Grim?" he asked in some disquietude. "You mean that … that black dog?"

"Yes, yes," said McGonagall with a dismissive shrug, rolling her eyes, "worst omen of death, haunts churchyards, people drop dead at the sight of it … a whole load of rubbish if you ask me …" she trailed off when she noticed Lupin's concerned expression. "But surely you don't believe in such nonsense, Remus?" she asked, perplexed, and though Lupin looked rather upset, next moment his face had brightened and he shook his head.

"No, no, of course not," he assured her, but Severus thought that he detected a lie in the amber eyes. "I was just thinking about how shocked poor Harry must've been. If you'd excuse me now, I've lessons to prepare …" And with that he got up and left the staffroom.

Severus and McGonagall exchanged surprised looks and as Severus leant back in his chair again, propping his chin up on his fist, he wondered whether he had been mistaken in Lupin. Perhaps he was not as clever as he seemed, but a superstitious fool? Did Lupin really believe what that fraud Trelawney had predicted? Or was it something else? Somehow it seemed very improbable that Lupin would believe in omens of death, he did not appear like a fool, even though he was a Gryffindor. There must be something more behind that odd behaviour.

But there wasn't much time to ponder this, for Severus was approached by Hagrid about the hippogriff attack only a little while later, and had a hard time understanding the half-giant's sobbed apology between the wails of despair and misery. It was hard not to feel sorry for him. And in his first lesson, too. Draco, Severus supposed, had probably provoked the accident, but to prove it, and to warrant that the hippogriff wasn't really dangerous would be very hard. Severus assured Hagrid that he would deal with Draco's father, though he thought that there would be consequences for the hippogriff if not for Hagrid himself. At least he had not lost his job, which would most likely remain that way as long as Albus was in charge. But Severus knew Lucius Malfoy well and he was sure that he would not just let the matter rest.

What a good start into the new school year, Severus thought, when he walked back to his rooms that evening. He had left dinner early to prepare his classroom for tomorrow before going to bed. He was rather tired, having got up so early to talk to Albus. For nothing. Having expected the corridors to be empty, Severus was surprised to hear hurried footsteps behind him and a hoarse voice calling his name. He turned round and was annoyed to see the blasted werewolf coming his way, slowing down upon seeing that Severus had stopped. Apparently Lupin was determined to spoil even the last quiet moments that Severus could find in this castle. He was already expecting that forced conversation on Potions and was ready to smother it immediately with a snide remark and make sure Lupin got it straight that Severus would not be susceptible to his attempts to make friends with everyone.

"Severus," Lupin said in his hoarse voice, slightly out of breath. He smiled his curious smile and Severus answered with a glare to make clear to him that he was not welcome. But to no effect. "The Headmaster says you need to see me because of the Potion. Adjusting ingredients and dosages to my needs it was, I think."

"Did he, now?" Severus growled and Lupin nodded, raising an eyebrow. Dumbledore had to be very careful. He was just about to cross a line.

"I hope he wasn't mistaken?" asked Lupin politely and cocked his head to one side. "I would loathe getting on your nerves for nothing." The amused light was back in his eyes and Severus glowered at him. If he cared about Severus's nerves, he wouldn't have come at all.

"As a matter of fact he was quite right," Severus replied, sizing Lupin up with narrowed eyes. "You should think if the Headmaster knows the particulars of this Potion so well he would want to make it himself, seeing as you are _his_ responsibility. But no, he delegates this unpleasant task to me, adding the responsibility as the icing on the rotten cake because he has no time to eat it himself."

"I believe he considers your skill greater than his own and therefore he gladly transfers the responsibility to you," said Lupin and the delicate flattery made Severus give him an incredulous look, which he answered with an inquisitive smile. "He also told me that you would find this Potion a welcome challenge, though you are unlikely to admit it. I understand that you are still quite passionate about potion-making?"

"Don't try to make civilised conversation, Lupin," said Severus smoothly, "I am not interested in it. As far as I am concerned, the less we converse the more bearable this arrangement will be for the both of us."

"I am sorry to be causing you such an inconvenience, Severus," said Lupin and the corners of his mouth twitched again. He didn't look sorry at all. "Unfortunately we have no choice but to live with it for now. I will do my best to find a way to repay you for your efforts."

"I would have several suggestions," muttered Severus but Lupin didn't seem to have heard, since he merely kept smiling. "Fine, then, follow me, so we can get this over with and relieve ourselves of each other's presence."

"I don't mind your presence, Severus," said Lupin frankly and Severus glanced at him in awkward surprise that made him scowl.

"But I do yours," he snapped and set off down the corridor, causing Lupin to follow.

When they had arrived at Severus's office, Severus held the door open for Lupin and stepped inside after him, closing it behind them. He lit the torches and sat down behind his desk, taking out quill, ink, and parchment to note down Lupin's information. He didn't offer Lupin a chair, so the werewolf remained standing in front of him, looking round at the shelves in sincere curiosity. Severus looked at the list of ingredients and the sheet with instructions Albus had provided.

"Weight?" he asked harshly and Lupin snapped out of his contemplation of a frog suspended in purple potion. He looked slightly bewildered for a moment, then raised an unconscious hand and ran it down the front of his robes.

"About eight stone, I think," he said absently and as he resumed considering the jars he coughed.

Severus looked closely at him and wondered if those robes really concealed such a thin frame. It was impossible to judge. But it did not matter, it was no concern of Severus's. Lupin would be able to eat three square meals a day at Hogwarts, so why even think about it. But as Severus jotted down the weight, his mind held on to it rather tightly. For a moment, he was quite preoccupied and he forgot what he had to ask next, so he checked the instructions.

"Height?" he asked then and looked back up at Lupin to find him leaning a little to the side to consider a rat brain in green potion. He seemed interested, but apparently didn't want to walk around lest Severus didn't approve. Well, Severus would surely not give him permission to move, it was far too satisfying to see him crane his neck with considerable difficulty.

"Five foot, ten inches," he said just as absently as before and his eyes drifted upwards to fasten on a slug in red potion. "Though sometimes I lie and make myself a little taller," he added with a grin and Severus gave him a look that he didn't notice.

"Age, thirty-three," muttered Severus, writing it down. "Do you have any allergies or other afflictions I should know of?"

"No, other than being a werewolf I am quite all right, thank you," said Lupin pleasantly and looked round at Severus, who shook his head at him and wrote it down.

"How long have you been suffering from said affliction?" Severus asked, reading out the question from the instructions.

"Twenty-eight long years," said Lupin and his voice changed a little, became rather suffering, indeed, but only for an instant. Then Lupin smiled and chuckled huskily, triggering that same shiver in Severus. "I can assure you that one doesn't get used to it."

Severus ignored him, shaking off the tingling sensation the shiver had left in its wake, and he glared down at his parchment, quite annoyed again. "That will do," he said, after double-checking the list. "Should I need anything else, I shall let you know. There is no need for you to talk to me about the Potion, I shall remember to make it and approach you with it to instruct you in the week before the full moon. Until then, I hope dearly that you will stay well away from me. That would, for now, be enough of a payback."

Lupin chuckled once more and Severus cursed him inwardly for the huskiness of it and the awfully unwelcome effect it had on him. The werewolf did not reply, though, which Severus took as something like a "you wish", annoying him even more as he realised that Lupin would probably try to establish a good working relationship with him. Lupin did not seem to notice or care, but nodded at a few of the rather more nasty jars to his right. "There won't be any of that in the Potion, will there?" he asked in worried amusement.

Severus raised an eyebrow. He tried to ignore his offended irritation at Lupin's apparent disgust, so different from the interest he had shown earlier. Usually it didn't matter to him when people did not appreciate the singular objects he had collected over the years. Not many people understood this fascination. But at first Lupin had seemed sincerely intrigued when he had looked at them. Now Severus just wanted him to leave again. "Would you refuse to drink it if it were so?" Severus asked after a few moments, hoping the answer would be yes. But no such luck.

"Oh, I would drink it, but …" Lupin said slowly, rubbing his neck, "they seem quite valuable. Wasted on me, I daresay. And, to be quite frank with you, I could never appreciate rat brains as useful ingredients, I always have to think of their tails in the Pepper-Up Potions in winter. It doesn't help it go down. I can live with beetles and leeches, even slugs … but brains make me uncomfortable. And rats … I'm sure their magical values are significant, though."

He chuckled apologetically and Severus was taken aback by the swooping sensation it incited in his stomach. He glared at Lupin for doing this to him and got to his feet to throw him out. He opened the door and Lupin turned. "Never fear, no rat brains in your Potion," said Severus coldly, making Lupin smile gratefully. "And now leave, you are wasting my time."

"All right, I'm already on my way," smiled Lupin and passed Severus out into the corridor. "Thank you again for the time you invest in this, I do appreciate it. I wish you a good night."

Severus jerked his head in dismissal and watched Lupin walk slowly up the corridor, humming softly to himself. "Don't let the Grim catch you," Severus called after him and smirked as Lupin flinched.

Then he slammed the door and locked it to keep out more unwanted visitors, turned to his store cupboard and tried to remember what he had wanted to do when he had left dinner. But it was as though there was an impenetrable veil of thoughts revolving around Lupin, hiding from his mind's eye the important work he had meant to undertake. Staring at the ingredients did not help, for it merely reminded Severus of the way Lupin's amber eyes had scrutinised the objects in the glass jars surrounding him, suspended in multicoloured potions, reflecting the werewolf's face as though they mirrored all the different facets of his annoying personality. That husky chuckle still seemed to be reverberating from them, or maybe just inside Severus's body, which appeared to have absorbed and multiplied it to reproduce the unpleasantly pleasant shiver it had caused several times today.

Closing the cupboard, Severus heaved an exasperated sigh and tried to clear his mind, but it would not quite obey him. Keeping an eye on Lupin suddenly didn't seem all too unpleasant a task anymore. It promised to help him find out what lay behind that smile that Lupin always gave him, or rather the different smiles. The one that seemed habitual, like a mask, hid from Severus's eyes something that made him indecently curious. Was it the betrayal Severus thought – or hoped – he would commit? Was it defiance, as he had believed yesterday? Or was it something completely other? And what did it mean when Lupin's smile twitched, giving Severus the impression of some real emotion? It was strange enough that Lupin smiled at him like that when anybody else would give him nothing short of a death glare. That Lupin stayed in his presence when anybody would gladly seize the first chance to take their leave. He wanted to make conversation even though Severus told him straight out he had no interest in it. And all smiling staunchly. It had some unyielding quality. It was quite intriguing.

But Severus did not want the werewolf to be intriguing. He did not want him to be noticeably handsome, or attractive in any other way. Though a part of him admitted grudgingly that he had been pleased to find somebody sincerely interested in his rare ingredients, he did not want it to be Lupin of all people. He did not want his treacherous body to shiver when Lupin laughed his husky laugh. But all of this added up to a mystery, quite as obscure and tempting as Lupin's many illnesses and his secretive air had been at school. And Severus, who wanted to look to the bottom of things always, could not quite seem to resist it. The loathing he felt for Lupin was dimmed somewhat by this new feeling, yet he still muttered maledictions as he entered his rooms, cursing Lupin for forcing his way not only into Severus's life but also into his mind. He should not want to keep an eye on the werewolf, but just like he had at school, he felt a strong urge to do so.

In the complete, dark silence of his bedroom, the chuckle that his body had captured resounded in his mind like the echo of a canon blast. Now that man even followed him to bed. Severus glowered into the darkness. He should hate Lupin with every ounce of his body, like he had until yesterday, he should not waste precious hateful ounces on other sensations. That man was treading on delicate ground. Severus wanted him gone. Needed him gone. And he would do his best to make him leave.


	3. Lesson Three: Allure

Title: **Fortune's Might**

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: Suzululu4moe, as soon as somebody says "poor Severus" I know I've done something right. Yeah, Emily-pino, I'm trying to keep the development of this story more natural than it used to be, glad you noticed and thanks for the compliment! Don't worry, Chase'sGirl19, I'm not gonna delete the old stories, but I'm happy you like the new one!

* * *

 **Lesson Three: Allure**

When Severus woke next morning, he was drowsier than usual and much less inclined to get up. Sitting up rather reluctantly as he heard students moving above, he rubbed his eyes to chase away the persistent dreams that clung to him like spoilt potions. Lupin's chuckle still hadn't departed from his ears and Severus found him more and more insufferable as he got out of bed and trudged into the bathroom. He hated laughter, he wouldn't have it around him, he hated it when people laughed at him. He hated how Lupin's presence brought back unpleasant memories including malicious laughter, memories he had tried to bury as deeply as possible.

He didn't want to remember, but now every time he saw Lupin's face, he would. He looked at his own angry face in the mirror, glaring, and wondered how this could have no effect whatsoever on Lupin. It even made Severus recoil slightly. With a snort he splashed some cold water into his face to get rid of the drowsiness and that husky chuckle ringing in his ears. Lupin had no right to laugh in his presence, should know that it reminded Severus unpleasantly of their school days. But even as that thought crossed his mind he remembered that Lupin had never laughed. Had never even looked. That was why Severus had not known his eyes to be so astonishingly amber. Lupin had never directed them at him to watch him being tormented by Sirius Black and James Potter. He had looked away. Doing nothing. He hadn't approved. But he hadn't intervened either. The anger turned into a dull ache. He could have done _something_. Anything. But he hadn't cared enough. Even with that prefect's badge on his chest.

As Severus made his way to the Great Hall, he took cruel pleasure in the way the new first-years jumped out of his way, obviously frightened, when he passed through the crowd of students streaming to breakfast. Sweeping past the house tables, Severus hardly noticed Lupin, who was making his way rather slowly towards his seat, but Lupin noticed him and made it known at once.

"Good morning to you, Severus," he said hoarsely and Severus bristled immediately when Lupin caught up with him. "Unusually late today, aren't you? Personally, I tend to sleep in, I'm afraid. In future, I'll have to hurry to catch breakfast at all. But I suppose that you are usually among the first at the breakfast table, at least that's how I remember it."

Severus shot him a poisonous look to make him drop it and leave him alone, but once more to no effect. Lupin smiled at him, meeting his eyes, entirely unimpressed by his glare, clearly expecting him to reply. From the High Table, Albus's blue eyes were twinkling in their direction and he looked positively delighted to see his two youngest staff members in conversation. But no sir, Severus would not let him run away with a false impression.

"Could we skip the small talk and return to silence?" said Severus in a low, cold voice. "I will have you know that I have not the slightest desire to chat with you about my daily habits. Or anything else, for that matter."

"Ah, I see," replied Lupin but he did not sound offended, rather amused once again. "Well, enjoy your breakfast, then."

As Severus met his eyes again he had the feeling that they were looking right through him, without any need for Legilimency, to the very bottom of him and it made him so uncomfortable that he averted his eyes and sped up to leave Lupin behind and sit down beside McGonagall. He felt Lupin's eyes on him for some time longer and none of his threatening looks into the werewolf's direction made a difference. It was as if Lupin just ignored all the hatred that filled Severus's every word, his every look and gesture, when directed at him. It frustrated Severus immensely. Why was it that Remus Lupin was so immune to Severus's deliberate rudeness. It affected everybody, usually, in one way or another. It incited anger, pain, or equal rudeness. But Lupin did not react in any of the usual patterns. As a boy, he had been much more affected by Severus's remarks, by his open hostility. He had been very different, indeed. What had changed?

There was something about him, apart from his hair and his robes and his voice, that was different. Different from the last time they had met, before the war had ended. His smiles seemed genuine, but were they really? Severus narrowed his eyes when he saw Lupin smile at McGonagall. There was something about him that seemed forced, wasn't there? He had always been friendly and had never lost his temper at school, either, a quiet and intelligent boy that hadn't quite fitted in with the show-off team Black and Potter had formed. But he seemed stronger now. Self-confident.

"A Boggart? Are you sure?" Lupin said and sounded exhilarated.

"Yes," replied Professor Flitwick squeakily, "in the wardrobe in the staffroom. It moved in yesterday. Mr Filch was complaining about having to clear it out."

"Well, I think I can help him there," said Lupin cheerfully and Severus saw him turn to Albus. "Headmaster, if you would give me permission to use the Boggart in the staffroom for my first lesson with the Gryffindor third-years, I'd be much obliged."

"Naturally, Remus, a very good idea," replied Albus and Severus rolled his eyes as he buttered a crumpet rather forcefully. It was _not_ a good idea, at least if Lupin wanted to keep his little secret. A Boggart would transform into the full moon when facing him. But what did it matter to Severus?

It was Thursday, which meant that Severus's most dreaded lesson had arrived. The Gryffindor and Slytherin third-year class had always brought cold foreboding with it, for it contained Neville Longbottom, the nightmare of every serious Potions master. As though Life had wanted to make fun of him, it had sent Longbottom his way as soon as Severus's catastrophe prone least favourite student Nymphadora Tonks had finally graduated with a miraculous success in her Potions NEWT. Severus had thought he must cry when Tonks had scraped an Outstanding in her Potions OWL, condemning him to another two years of her presence. But even that clumsy girl looked adept when compared to Longbottom. Not even patient Albus Dumbledore would have been able to stand the constant fear of exploding or melting cauldrons that boy incited in Severus and everybody else in his vicinity. Most of the time, Severus managed to prevent severe damage, but today he was distracted and foul-tempered already because of Lupin's amiable greeting at the breakfast table. He had now won Hagrid's respect as well, by sharing with him his knowledge of all kinds of "interesting" creatures he had met while travelling.

There were no explosions today, but Longbottom's Shrinking Solution was so dreadful that Severus threatened him with feeding it to his toad should he not manage to repair the damage. But Severus was disappointed when the potion turned out well enough, at the end of the lesson, to shrink the toad effectively. Severus took five points from Gryffindor because Granger had helped Longbottom, even though he had told her not to. At least he had been able to bully Potter and Weasley a little, but his mood stayed at an all-time low.

Severus settled down in the staffroom after lunch, lounging in his favourite armchair when, in the distance, he heard Peeves the poltergeist singing at the top of his voice a rhyme that Severus knew very well from his own school days. "Loony loopy Lupin" had sounded loudly through the corridors whenever Peeves had come across Lupin. Even the poltergeist had noticed that there was something odd about Lupin. He always singled out somebody in whom he took a special malicious interest. Nowadays it was Potter. The song was a clear announcement of Lupin's arrival, but Severus was much more interested in the loud BANG and the sudden swearing that followed it, putting a stop to the song. Apparently Lupin did not let anybody but Severus get away with rudeness.

A few moments later, the staffroom door opened and the Gryffindor third-years trouped in, followed by their DADA teacher. The children endowed Lupin with respectful looks, probably due to the spell with which he must have shut Peeves up. In their eyes, his shabby robes seemed to have been replaced by the ermine and purple that Severus could not see. When Lupin made to close the door, Severus got to his feet, sneering at him.

"Leave it open, Lupin," he said and the werewolf looked round at him, seemingly surprised. "I'd rather not witness this." He strode towards Lupin, past the class of insufferable Gryffindors and at the door he turned again, he couldn't resist. He wanted to provoke Lupin. "Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin," he said with a malicious glance at Longbottom and Granger, "but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear."

Lupin raised his eyebrows. "I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation," he replied calmly, and though there was no smile on his face as he said it, Severus thought that he could see it lurking behind his amber eyes, "and I am sure that he will perform it admirably."

Severus looked at him and found his lack of irritation intriguing, but he did not say anything more. He did not want to experience a humiliating defeat at Lupin's hands in front of those children. This reply was already bad enough, as was his failure at achieving the effect he would have achieved in any other of his colleagues. He had a reputation to lose, after all. And he would lose it if he waited for that smile to come out and play. Lupin's defiance was very subtle, and very frustrating, indeed. His amber eyes were quite tranquil as they looked up at Severus, without taking offence when he left without another word.

On his way back to the dungeons, Severus imagined all kinds of ways to get rid of the blasted werewolf and his annoying answers and his mysterious smile that caught Severus's eye even before it had conquered the werewolf's lips. Many of those ways would land Severus in Azkaban, but if Black could escape, so could he. Still, none of the ways that occurred to him seemed very effective, and since Severus was still in Albus's debt, he did not find very appealing the prospect of making him angry. Not even if he could get rid of Lupin in exchange. And despite himself, Severus felt tempted to go back and lure that smile out from behind those amber eyes. It was the challenge that attracted him. There was a challenge in Lupin's smiles, in his calm voice and unaffected behaviour. A deliberate challenge, Severus thought. As though the werewolf wanted to bring out every bit of Severus there was.

And as that thought crossed his mind, he found that he had challenged Lupin, too, just now, to reveal more of himself. He had done it unconsciously. But now that he came to think of it, he had wanted to see it again to figure it out: The way Lupin would raise his eyebrows at Severus's words, or the way he smiled instead of backing off, or the way he replied with a light chuckle in his husky voice, as if they were having the most commonplace, even pleasant conversation. He stood his ground, not letting Severus intimidate him, as if to show him that they were equals. He let him know every time their eyes met. Every time he held his gaze without giving in by looking away.

Actually, Severus thought, ignoring the unwanted shiver that ran through his body, Lupin's new self-confidence was rather intriguing. It made him – Severus grumbled grudgingly to himself – more interesting than the other dunderheads that came across Severus every day. It made him attractive. Severus stopped dead and had the sudden urge to bang his head against the nearest stone wall to smash that horrid thought. Attractive? No, that wasn't what he had meant to think. He didn't know where that had come from. Lupin was the last person he would think of like that. Gryffindor werewolves who had almost eaten him alive did not belong in the category of people Severus would look at like that. Though he would never admit it, he did not deny that he belonged in the category of objective attractiveness, but there was a disfiguring fog hanging over Lupin's advantages, produced by their past.

Severus took a deep breath to clear his mind and resumed his way to the dungeons. Lupin was a nuisance! And his persistent attempts to try and involve Severus in conversation annoyed Severus every time. Somehow it seemed almost as though Lupin _wanted_ to annoy Severus, did it on purpose. As though he looked so calmly at him, with that smile and that amused light in his eyes, waiting for Severus's annoyance. Perhaps he found it entertaining. Maybe he enjoyed it when Severus grew angry while he remained unstirred by Severus's rudeness. Strange that Severus's rudeness had a weaker effect than Lupin's politeness. But it did not seem like Lupin to annoy somebody deliberately. At least it would not have been like him at school.

Still appalled by his previous thoughts, Severus was momentarily distracted by a letter from Lucius when he entered his office. It merely informed him of the steps he would take to avenge his son's arm, abused Dumbledore, and wished Severus a successful school year. Severus usually liked to hear from Lucius, but never when it concerned school or Dumbledore or both. Lucius could be very unpleasant about these topics and Severus did not like him very much when he was so obviously using his power and influence. Besides, Severus never liked it when anyone spoke ill of Albus. It was a soft spot. Albus had been good to him, had taught him Occlumency to help him survive his time as a spy, had given him a home when he had been lost. Severus had known Lucius for a long time, but he did not overlook such behaviour simply because Lucius had helped him in the past. His help had landed Severus in the Dark Lord's inner circle, Dumbledore's had landed him in his Potions classroom. It was easy to judge which had benefited him more. Still, Severus wrote Lucius a reply before his seventh-year NEWT course and sent it by school owl.

The inner circle made Severus think again about Sirius Black, looming over the cauldrons of Polyjuice Potion that his seventh-years were brewing today. Albus had believed twelve years ago that Lupin was the traitor in the rows of the Order of the Phoenix, the one who was reporting to the Dark Lord news from within the Order of the Phoenix, and after Severus had told him that Harry Potter was the boy the Dark Lord had chosen as his target after hearing of the prophecy from Severus himself, Albus had suggested the Fidelius Charm to the family, to hide them without the chance of the spy in their midst giving away their whereabouts. Severus had been confident that Albus knew what he was doing, that he knew the members of the Order well enough to know who was betraying him. That there was somebody betraying him he had learned from Severus, who had found out at a meeting from the Dark Lord himself.

But Albus had been wrong. And when Severus had next entered Hogwarts, his friend Lily Potter, whom he had wanted to protect, and her husband were dead, the Dark Lord had gone, and Sirius Black had been arrested. Not Remus Lupin. The werewolf had not been the monster in their midst, he had not passed the Dark Lord information. Severus had not known who it was, nor had anyone else in the inner circle. It had been the Dark Lord's best-kept secret. For good reason. And everybody had believed that if any of the Potters' friends were to betray them, it must be Lupin. Pettigrew had been too cowardly – though the way he had died proved that he had not been quite as cowardly as everybody had believed – Sirius Black had been too much of a Gryffindor, always Potter's best friend, always loyal and brave. And that Lupin had always been odd, secretive, isolated. He surely had it in him, concerning the courage and the magical ability it took to be of service to the Dark Lord by playing a role in the Order.

And he was a werewolf. That had probably been the strongest reason for the Order's certainty that it was right to shut the werewolf out of all decisions concerning the protection of the Potters. Not to Albus. To Albus he had merely seemed most likely because he was skilled, brave, and quite able to keep secrets even from those close to him. They had all been wrong and ultimately Severus had been at fault for Lily Potter's death. If only he had been able to find out who was the traitor, if only he had not heard that prophecy. If only he had expressed his doubts about Lupin's guilt. A werewolf he was, yes, but that had been the reason for Severus's doubts. The Dark Lord would not have relied on a werewolf to such an extent. Pure blood had been essential to him, also concerning the trust he placed in people. But again, Severus had wanted him to be guilty, not least of all because that would have meant that he could blame somebody he loathed for the threat against Lily's life, instead of only blaming himself. And it was not as though Lupin had ever done anything to help Severus, so Severus had never once thought about defending him or clearing him of anyone's suspicion. He had passed all responsibility to Albus and trusted his judgment. It had cost Lily her life, and Severus was the only one to blame.

He shook his head and pushed her to the back of his mind, where he could bear her memory. He wondered if that was where Lupin kept his memories of his friends. But then he cursed the werewolf again for reminding him of all those things that he had tried to forget. They were too unpleasant to dwell on them. He didn't want to see or hear Lupin. Ever again. But since that was impossible if he didn't want to resign, keep the Azkaban prisoners company, or commit suicide, which were all unacceptable options, he might as well take a closer look at the Wolfsbane Potion. If he was lucky, he would be able to improve the Potion, publish those improvements and humiliate Damocles I've-Got-An-Order-Of-Merlin-First-Class Belby, being only a humble Potions master.

He set to work before dinner, pondering Lupin's weight as he adjusted the ingredients to the werewolf's needs. The werewolf was much too thin and as much as he would like to, he could not just ignore it, he could not help wondering why Lupin looked as though he didn't usually have regular meals. Severus brushed the end of his quill against his forehead. He decided to check on Lupin's weight in regular intervals, to make sure he had the right amounts of all ingredients and a big enough dose of Wolfsbane for each day of the week before the full moon. Now that Lupin had access to three square meals a day, he would gain weight, surely.

He pored over the instructions for a while and corrected the number of stirs, the handling of ingredients and the brewing times as he went over the brewing process in his mind and noted down his brilliant ideas. When he went to dinner he sat down between Albus and McGonagall, who simply continued their conversation across his lap.

"I must admit I had some reservations. I mean, as a student it was quite all right, a teacher is a different liability," said McGonagall and her voice sounded highly approving. "But I have only heard praise from the students and the rest of the staff seem quite impressed with him, too. Personally, I have experienced him as a friendly and charming man, notwithstanding the hardships he must have faced, and I am glad that he is competent, too."

"I quite agree, Minerva," said Albus with a satisfied nod, "everybody tells me he is patient, likable, and has an aptitude for motivating and encouraging his students. I am very pleased, very pleased indeed. It is about time we had a proper Defence teacher and I am even more satisfied that it should be Remus."

"Nobody seems to ask me what I think of him," said Severus as he helped himself to beef chops.

"Everybody knows what you think of him," said McGonagall dismissively, "but that doesn't mean that the rest of us must share your opinion."

"You call him likable," growled Severus at her, "I call him insufferable and insolent."

"What did he do to you now, Severus?" asked McGonagall in a bored voice. "Wish you a good morning?"

Severus shot her a glare but did not answer, he knew what she would say if he told her that it was Lupin's provocative friendliness that annoyed him. And as though he had noticed that people were talking about him, Lupin ambled into the Hall at that precise moment, deep in conversation with Professor Flitwick again. Severus narrowed his eyes and scrutinised him, taking in his relaxed demeanour, his rapt face when listening to Flitwick telling him about some duel he had fought in his youth, judging by the wild movements he made with his arms. Hardships. Well, they were still visible in Lupin's greying hair, his darned robes, the tired air he had about him all the time. But despite all this one could think that Lupin had never done anything but teach at Hogwarts. He was at his ease again, it was obvious in the carefree smile he was wearing and the way he shook his hair out of his eyes rather nonchalantly as he looked at the High Table.

Severus thought that, despite all the responsibility and the debt he had accepted upon coming to Hogwarts, it must still be a relief to teach here, being able to let go of all the worries that must have accompanied him all his life. How soon would the people surrounding him find out what he was, and how would they react? Would he find a job to feed himself soon? And how long until he lost it again? Worries that Severus had never known. His own robes were brand new, delivered just last week from Gladrags in Hogsmeade. Yet he thought that none of the other teachers, no matter how magnificent their robes, wore them in as royal a manner as Lupin wore his shabby ones. He wore them with pride it seemed, and it did not bother him that some people eyed him with derisive sneers. According to Albus, Lupin deserved the relief of a teaching position that he would not lose because of his condition. But Severus begrudged him this relief. It had come at the expense of his own peace.

When Lupin's eyes drifted down the table, they found Severus's for a split second but instead of holding his gaze, like Severus had expected he would, Lupin averted his eyes almost at once, running a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck, and he did not look at Severus again all through dinner. It was quite curious. A radical change in the behaviour Severus had seen ever since Lupin had arrived at Hogwarts, and really just this afternoon. An intriguing change. Severus wanted to know what was at the bottom of it, but he would not ask. He would not give Lupin the impression that he wanted to talk to him. Or that he noticed changes in him at all. As though he were constantly paying attention to him.

But Severus couldn't help noticing the whispering and the eyes that seemed to be following him out of the Hall after dinner. Glancing over his shoulder, he found McGonagall walking beside Lupin into his direction and he sped up, unwilling to be subjected to Lupin's attempts at conversation once again. He had no desire to look at that smile again, nor to try his hardest to find the things in Lupin that everybody else seemed to have noticed. So the whole staff had expressed their approval of Lupin, had they? He felt sure that none of them had ever expressed their approval of Severus. Behind Severus, Lupin chuckled, rather closer by than he had expected and when he looked over his shoulder again, he saw McGonagall and Lupin ascending the marble staircase, deep in conversation about something highly amusing it appeared. Severus thought McGonagall might have invited the werewolf for a nightcap in her office and wondered if Lupin would agree. Severus himself had felt awkward with such private meetings when he had first come to Hogwarts to teach, for those Professors had taught him in his day. Feeling like a peer and not a student had been particularly hard in the beginning.

"You do know you can call me Minerva, don't you, Remus?" Severus heard McGonagall say, her voice sounding half amused, half exasperated. Lupin chuckled awkwardly and rubbed his neck as Severus watched them. Severus was sure the werewolf was giving her a rather charming smile.

"I am trying to get used to it," he replied, the chuckle still in his voice, "but it will take a while. It is rather … weird. Just this morning Professor Flitwick told me to call him Filius and I fear I was rather as flustered as I am now. I do hope I'm not blushing."

It was McGonagall's turn to chuckle. "Believe me, you will feel much less like a student and lose some of your reservation when you call us by our given names," she assured him as they reached the landing. "Ask Severus, he certainly lost some respect along with it. I tell you what, you can get used to calling me Minerva over a few ginger newts in my office. There's a bottle of single-malt Scotch that I have been wanting to open –"

But Severus did not hear whether Lupin agreed or not, for they walked down the corridor and out of earshot. Silly Gryffindors. Descending to his rooms, Severus was rather disgruntled when he thought about the praise McGonagall had had for Lupin's teaching abilities. Why couldn't the werewolf be a normal dunderhead, a horrible teacher like the last Defence Against the Dark Arts professors? Why did he have to be clever and charming and cultured? Why did he have to be sociable and likable and mild? And why in Merlin's name did he have to react so intriguingly to Severus's hostility?

It wasn't late yet, but Severus didn't feel like staying up, with Lupin ghosting about his thoughts, so he put out the lights, and with a glass of red wine and a yawn he retired to his bedroom. Outside, the waning moon shone down upon the grounds, dipping the lake and the forest in its cold, silvery light. _Intriguing, how firm a grip that light has on some_ , was the last thought on Severus's mind that night before he drifted off to sleep, _very intriguing indeed_.


	4. Lesson Four: Olive Branch

Title: **Fortune's Might**

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: Thanks for the great reviews, everybody! Chase'sGirl19, it's so nice to read that the work I put into this story is noticed and appreciated, thanks! Welcome back, Kiraling and Resevius, this is starting to feel like a get-together of old friends :).

* * *

 **Lesson Four: Olive Branch**

It was Friday. Usually on Fridays Severus was rather less unpleasant than on the other days of the week, for it meant the end of the week and the start of some pleasant alone time in his rooms without disturbances. He would just have to endure a few more hours in the company of noisy Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs before sweet redemption allowed him to retreat to his sitting room or his lab and to shut out everybody he did not want to see. Today this also meant that he could finally leave behind Lupin, for not even the werewolf could enter his rooms without permission, and even if the staffroom and Severus's office were not safe, Severus's private space was a werewolf-free zone.

The rest of the castle, on the other hand, seemed to be much less so. Even when the werewolf wasn't present, Severus had the impression that everybody was whispering Lupin's name as he walked to breakfast. Severus wondered what the werewolf could have done to suddenly be on everyone's lips but almost at once this curiosity was squashed by the annoyance caused by several groups of students who seemed to be looking furtively at him as they talked quietly together and started to snigger when he looked round at them. That was not the effect he usually achieved by glaring at the children. All through breakfast Severus had the impression that the students and even the staff were casting him amused glances, but nobody told him what the joke was or let him overhear their whispered conversations. This seemed to be yet another thing that the whole castle knew while he was kept in the dark.

Somehow Severus had an ominous feeling and looked down the table to see if Lupin appeared to know anything about it, but the werewolf wasn't there at all. Remembering that Lupin had told him he was a late riser, Severus huffed and glowered into the Hall, challenging all those people to tell him what was going on. But even when he left for his first lesson he was no wiser, though the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff fifth-years behaved in the same mysterious way during their double-Potions class. He handed gave a student detention for a burst of laughter that positively appalled him, and took several points from the many students who were whispering Lupin's name while telling a story that he was apparently not to know.

He felt like a fool when the children left his dungeon for lunch, and when he made his way upstairs, too, a little while later, he racked his brains trying to figure out what exactly could have happened to make the whole school so giddy. He was late for lunch, and when he reached the Entrance Hall it was deserted but for a single man, entering through the open front doors, laden with shopping bags. Severus stopped and looked round at him, recognising Lupin at once. He was wearing a smile and humming to himself as his amber eyes found Severus and he inclined his head, walking towards him in a slight curve.

"Hello, Severus," he said pleasantly, shaking his hair out of his eyes with the same nonchalant jerk of the head that Severus had seen yesterday. "I hope you are well? No exploded cauldrons today?"

Severus sneered at him and eyed the shopping bags as Lupin came to a halt not quite too close to him. "Where have you been, Lupin?" he asked silkily. He tried not to sound too interested, but he could not deny that he was curious. "Does the Headmaster pay you to go shopping during teaching hours?"

"I had a free period and used it to go into Hogsmeade," said Lupin mildly, turning the bags for Severus to see the Honeydukes logo. "I had to stock up on chocolate. Quite a few younger children are having difficulties with the Dementors and, personally, I prefer to carry some chocolate around with me at all times, just in case. Also bought some Toothflossing Springmints while I was at it. I felt like a boy again when I walked into Honeydukes with my pockets full of gold for a change."

Lupin looked more like the boy he had been as he said this, his eyes were twinkling golden and his smile was different once again, exhilarated. Severus narrowed his eyes at him. "You used your first salary to buy sweets instead of a new set of robes?" he asked with a sneer.

"I also bought other things," said Lupin, still smiling, "like quills, ink, and parchment at Scrivenshafts. And I looked into Derwish and Banges. I found I have grown just a little too old for Zonko's, though. And to be quite frank with you, I don't care if my robes are handsome or not, looks are a mere illusion, they wither with time. Chocolate on the other hand …" He trailed off and shrugged with a contented chuckle. Severus tried to suppress a shiver but couldn't. If anything, the huskiness had increased since yesterday and Severus supposed the long walk from Hogsmeade through the cold air was at fault.

Lupin gave him a curious look, his brow slightly creased but his smile unwaveringly in place, and Severus scowled back at him, wondering if Lupin thought that his looks were only an illusion, too, and that underneath them Severus was quite a cuddly guy. Lupin should know better. But there was something careful in Lupin's gaze, something searching that made Severus suspicious again. Maybe Lupin wondered if Severus had heard what everybody was sniggering about. When Lupin was finally satisfied as to Severus's ignorance or whatever he had been looking for, he reached into one of his bags and rummaged for a moment.

"I have something here … Minerva – Merlin, it's still strange to call her that – she told me that you like them," he muttered, and to Severus's utter surprise he pulled from the bag a packet of licorice ravens from Honeydukes. He held them out to Severus and smiled quite broadly, cocking his head to one side. Severus stared at him and wondered if he had lost his mind.

"What do you mean by this?" he asked crossly, and Lupin's eyebrows elevated again, like they had done several times before.

"I mean to be nice," he replied simply and stubbornly held the sweets out to him.

"If you believe that I will accept anything you want to give me you are more of a fool than I thought," spat Severus and pulled his eyes away from Lupin, striding across the Hall to have lunch and leaving Lupin behind. The werewolf did not call him back, did not follow him. And he did not appear at lunch. Severus was outraged. Lupin was acting as though they were friends, as though everything was forgiven and forgotten. But Severus would never forgive and he certainly would not forget. If the werewolf thought that he could change Severus's mind by acting as though he was interested in him or that he could twist him around his finger by "being nice", he was barking up the wrong tree. Or rather howling. Severus smirked to himself as he for once didn't pay attention to the whispers and the sniggers that seemed to be revolving not only around Lupin but also around him.

But when he left the Great Hall for his free period, he noticed it again: the sniggering, the pointing, the whispered conversations. And still no member of staff seemed to be meeting his eye or giving him the chance to talk to them long enough to inquire after that apparently funny story. But Severus would find out. Settling down in the armchair in the staffroom, Severus made himself quite invisible and waited for his prey. Someone would come whom he could corner and ask what was going on. He didn't have to wait long until McGonagall and Vector entered, talking animatedly. They hadn't noticed him yet, so he kept silent in his armchair, straining his ears to catch their conversation.

"I still can't quite believe it, that Lupin's really something," said Vector and Severus was sure that he was lucky this time. They must be talking about whatever he wasn't supposed to know. "Hilarious. To think –! I wish I had been there."

"Don't you let Severus hear that!" said McGonagall warningly and now it was plain that what Severus had feared was true. "Remus didn't come to breakfast this morning for a reason. He meant to apologise to Severus but I doubt that Severus even knows yet. Remus wasn't at lunch, either, in case you hadn't noticed."

"I think he'd do better to avoid Severus for a while," said Vector and there was amusement in her voice. "Or it might just end in bloodshed. Severus already seems to hate him."

"That is the precise reason why Remus was so eager to speak to Severus about the matter," said McGonagall seriously, "in private, he said. Personally, I recommended witnesses."

This made Severus even more curious. What could Lupin have done that would make Severus dislike him even more? What in Merlin's name had happened that was such a big deal? And why had the werewolf done it at all if he got cold feet now? He had seemed rather normal when Severus had met him in the Entrance Hall earlier. But he had brought him sweets and said he wanted to be nice. Was this regret? Penitence? Had he wanted to make up for something? He had looked as though he was searching Severus for something. Perhaps he had wanted to find out if Severus knew what he had done. But if he really wanted to apologise for something why had he not done it, there in the deserted Entrance Hall? Perhaps he wanted to avoid a confrontation.

McGonagall sighed as she sat down at the table, but Vector was grinning. "Come on, that Lupin has a good sense of humor!" Vector said, and Severus froze. "I haven't had such a good laugh since Dumbledore dyed his own beard pink years ago."

They both chuckled and Severus didn't like it at all. "Well," McGonagall said finally. "I'm sure he didn't mean it as a joke. He said it was a spontaneous idea. But then again, what was he expecting? Of course the whole school would laugh their heads off at that! Maybe it was a bout of insanity that overcame him. In any case, it was either really brave or suicidal, sticking Severus's Boggart replica into Augusta Longbottom's dress. I heard that there was lace on it on top of everything."

Severus felt as though somebody had plunged him in a pool of ice water. His brain tried to process this information and was still not done when anger was already bubbling up in Severus's stomach. Lupin had _dared_ put him in an old woman's _dress_? He didn't even realise at that moment that he had not really been wearing a dress, it was insubstantial to him that it had been a Boggart, he felt humiliated in an instant, ill-treated, abused, violated! As though Lupin had really used magic to transform his robes into a dress and have the whole school laugh at him. No matter that only the Gryffindor third-years had seen it, the whole school knew and their imaginations were worse even than reality could have been.

Severus got slowly to his feet, his hands balled into shaking fists, and as he turned to the two witches they noticed him and their faces fell in shock, which would have been quite a funny sight had Severus not been fuming with anger that he did not want to let out – not because he thought that those two didn't deserve to be subjected to it, but because he wanted to save it all for Lupin. Severus glared at McGonagall, for he found himself unable to even look at Vector, who had been so amused by his public ridicule.

"He has done _what_?" hissed Severus and his voice was shaking slightly as he suppressed the fury that was tearing at his throat.

McGonagall exchanged a guilty look with Vector and cleared her throat. "Severus, I didn't notice you at all," she said. "Well, apparently you are Longbottom's Boggart, so Remus had to improvise when he had the Gryffindor third-years tackle one yesterday. I take it you hadn't heard yet?"

"Why, my colleagues made sure of that, did they not?" he pressed, feeling the blood pulsing furiously through his veins. "And your beloved Lupin didn't have the _guts_ to tell me about it personally. Oh, but he is probably _enjoying_ himself thoroughly at my expense. He is probably _proud_ that he managed to make a fool of me in his first week here!"

"Oh, don't be silly, Severus," said McGonagall gruffly and now Severus couldn't even look at her anymore. He saw the amusement on her face, he saw the hidden laughter in her eyes. It was nauseating. "You're exaggerating as usual. He didn't mean anything by it. It was only a Boggart."

"Only a Boggart? Only a – _it was me nonetheless_!" snapped Severus and turned his back on them, wondering whether he should stay or leave. Now that he knew what everybody was sniggering about, he almost didn't dare leave this secluded place anymore. He did not want to go out there and hear them laughing at him. He wanted to Obliviate the whole castle. How could he live peacefully if he knew that everybody was laughing at him because of this dress business. McGonagall did not understand. Nobody could. It was as though Severus was hoisted up by the ankle again, in front of dozens of laughing students. His stomach churned. He was furious just so he didn't have to give in to humiliation and embarrassment, his old acquaintances. If he could only lay hands on Lupin now, witnesses or not, he would –

But at that very moment the door opened and a few of his colleagues entered the room, Lupin among them, wearing his usual smile, his hands in his pockets, and that tiredly nonchalant air about him enraged Severus even more. But as he caught sight of Severus, he stopped in his tracks and his smile slipped off his face. It was the first time that he seemed seriously uncomfortable in Severus's presence and Severus knew now that it was guilt that caused this change in him. The knowledge that he had done something wrong. He was aware that Severus had found out about the Boggart, other than before lunch in the Entrance Hall he did not act as though nothing had happened. It was as though he had waited for Severus to find out and was now ready to accept his wrath as punishment.

"You!" said Severus in a dangerous whisper, but in spite of Severus's murderous fury, Lupin stepped forward and held up his hands to pacify him.

"Listen, Severus," he said in that calm, hoarse voice which only made Severus angrier, "I know you must be upset, but if you just let me explain, I'm sure we can sort this out –"

"You want to explain?" asked Severus in a deadly voice and Lupin frowned. "What is there to explain? You thought you wanted a good laugh and there I was, the perfect victim for your idle enjoyment. How dare you ridicule me? How dare you make me the laughing-stock of the whole school? _Who do you think you are_?"

"Please, Severus, I didn't mean to do any such thing," replied Lupin quietly, looking quite stricken. "I had no intention to hurt you in any way, I simply failed to consider the consequences of my actions. I couldn't have known that you are what Neville fears most, I was surprised and needed a quick solution, that is all. Laughter is what finishes a Boggart, so I had to think of a way to –"

"To ridicule me!" spat Severus and found that that was proof enough of the fact that Lupin had indeed meant to make fun of him. It was most impertinent of him to deny it. He was aware of the fact that, though the rest of the staff were pretending not to be listening, they were all glancing furtively at them both. And they were on Lupin's side, no doubt.

"Well, yes and no," conceded Lupin reluctantly and he seemed rather troubled now, "you weren't even present, it was a Boggart, not you personally. I was only thinking of Neville at that moment, I did not think of anything else. Frankly, I found it more important to bolster his self-confidence than to worry about what that Boggart would mean to you. I see now that it was a mistake to exchange Neville's success for your dignity, but I assure you that it wasn't my intention to take it from you in the first place. I wasn't thinking –"

"Well, _that_ doesn't surprise me," snapped Severus and his hand was closing over his wand in his pocket. He wanted to hex Lupin, here and now, make him sprout something nasty and hilarious-looking so he would know what it felt like to be laughed at. Lupin had always been under somebody's protection, he had no idea how Severus was feeling. His empty words changed nothing. "You are always only thinking of yourself! First you come here and take my job away from me, then you go and steal my time with your bloody Potion, and now you pay me back for it like this?"

Lupin looked so guilty now that it gave Severus some satisfaction. He looked as though he was about to confess a horrid murder that had haunted him for ages. "I am sorry," he said and sounded genuinely regretful, though Severus was not sure whether anything Lupin did or said was genuine. "But what should I have done? I had already let Neville know that he was playing a big part in the lesson. Should I have told him that he would simply have to avoid Boggarts altogether because you are his greatest fear?"

"Sounds like a better solution than putting me into a blasted dress!" Severus was speaking quite loudly now, quite involuntarily so. Nobody else affected him like this. His anger was bursting out of him to throw itself at Lupin and attack him, but the werewolf did not back off, he was standing his ground. It was frustrating that he didn't even flinch. Severus wondered savagely if he would flinch should he feel Severus's bare hands round his neck.

Lupin heaved a heavy sigh. "Like I said, I am sorry and I fear there is nothing more I can say," he replied calmly, shaking his head, and the grey in his hair caught the sunlight and glittered fetchingly. Severus was momentarily distracted. "But what's done is done, and it can't be changed. I did not mean to make fun of you or to upset you, not to speak of seeming ungrateful. I can only express my regret and hope you will forgive me."

Severus had listened, but felt no better. They were hollow words in his ears. They didn't change anything. Lupin was right, the act of ridiculing Severus could not be undone and it was almost agonising to Severus to think of it. Lupin's apology meant nothing. It didn't erase anyone's memory or mental picture of Severus in a dress. It didn't stop anyone laughing. And Severus knew they were laughing. All of them. And even though Severus enjoyed having Lupin at his mercy, he couldn't shut out the laughter in his ears. It was there all the time. Haunting him. But Lupin …

"That doesn't change the fact that you made a fool of me," hissed Severus and Lupin lowered his eyes to the floor for a moment of weakness. When he raised them again, his eyes were still placid. There seemed to be an unwavering calm in him that Severus wanted to destroy. Severus caught Vector's eye and found her trying to suppress a smirk, surely at the renewed idea of him in a lacey dress, and he just wanted to vanish into the ground. He knew he was still flushed but he would not show his colleagues what he felt. He wanted Lupin to reveal what _he_ felt. "Thought you'd carry on where your glorious friends left off, did you, Lupin? Thought that you'd go to new lengths to humiliate me, pull off something all new and unforgettable in their memory?"

And there it was. The effect. Not as obvious as he had wished for it to be, but it was there. Lupin staggered. Not physically, but behind his amber eyes Severus saw the short flicker of an expression of shock and shame. And it was fascinating. As if after years and years of exhausting research he had finally succeeded in brewing the most magnificent new potion and solved an ancient problem. It made him feel triumphant and gleeful and it let him forget the laughter. And then it was gone. Replaced by Lupin's usual unaffected expression. And suddenly Severus knew what made the werewolf so different from the boy he had been: it was this mask that he donned to hide behind.

"Don't accuse me of something as shameful as that," the werewolf said, his voice suddenly cold. "I wouldn't even think of doing such a thing."

They stared at each other, and again Lupin didn't break eye contact. Severus would almost have faltered, when he saw Lupin frown suddenly, his eyes piercing, as if looking right through Severus. And he did look through him, right inside of him, Severus was sure of that. He felt it. "I'm sorry," Lupin said again, quietly, ruefully. "Please, forgive me. I have no other words than these."

Severus had enough of his apologies. He couldn't bear the laughter. He had built himself a high, thick wall of respect and fear so no one would laugh at him ever again and now it had been run in. Several bricks lay scattered at his feet and he was too exhausted to pick them up and put them back where they belonged. But he would have to do it to shield himself from the laughter. And when he looked around, he saw the laughter in all their eyes, felt the laughter of the students behind the thick stone walls, and remembered the laughter of his own schoolmates from twenty years ago. Everyone was laughing at him again. But Lupin … Lupin wasn't laughing. Had never laughed at Severus.

Severus relinquished his grip on his wand. Suddenly, all the fury he felt drained from his body like water from a bathtub. He couldn't help but believe Lupin's words, and as much as he tried to hold on to the anger, all that he was left with was a familiar, dull ache. He wouldn't forgive Lupin but he couldn't feel angry anymore, either. It gave him some satisfaction, though, that the werewolf seemed to be suffering, too. Without another word, without another look at Lupin, Severus strode from the room, unable to bear the eyes of his colleagues on him. He had not hexed the werewolf. He congratulated himself on his self-control. His anger had been big enough to kill him. But he had stopped killing in earnest. He had always hated it. It had made him sick. He just wanted his pure anger back now because he couldn't bear the feelings it had covered.

So instead of dwelling on his inner turmoil, Severus pondered the expression he had produced on Lupin's face. It had been fleeting, gone in an instant, but it had definitely been there. And he realised that he'd been wrong about one thing: it was not the self-confidence that made Lupin intriguing, it was what he was hiding underneath it. And the fact that he was hiding something at all. Of course Severus was fascinated by the way Lupin wouldn't back down, but it was even more interesting to find out that there was more to him than that calm face and that friendly smile. Severus wanted to know what else was hidden behind those golden eyes. And the challenge of finding a way to peel off that mask of his excited Severus. And then there was the fact that they had something in common: the masks they wore, different as they might be on the outside, to shield themselves from the world.

Severus stopped and leant against the cold stone wall, rubbing his neck as he closed his eyes. It was impossible to fight this feeling. Severus's curiosity had grown so much he could not ignore or deny it. He wanted to see those amber eyes flooded with emotion again, wanted to hear Lupin's usually warm voice heated and frozen, and what he wanted most of all was to hear the sound of that husky chuckle once more – though he wasn't quite ready to admit that even to himself. There was this fascination with Lupin that devoured his ill feelings. And frustration turned into eagerness. What would he have to do to make Lupin reveal his other faces? How many were there? Who was that man, if he had ceased to be the boy Severus had known? Severus felt an almost irresistible urge to find out. And at the same time he wished that he would never have to see him again, to look into his eyes and find, perhaps, the mirth he had not found today. Why that bothered him, Severus was not sure. But he was sure that, if Lupin were to leave now, he would spend the rest of his days being devoured by curiosity about him.

The remaining lessons of the day were spent suffocating even the tiniest sniggers immediately, now that Severus knew what they were about. He did not want to allow anybody to enjoy themselves at his expense even for one more second. At dinner, Severus did not meet Lupin's eyes. The staff no longer talked about the Boggart incident, at least not in his presence, and McGonagall talked to him in rather light tones. Lupin had the sense not to talk to him at all, but somehow Severus's fascination gave way to the wish of getting away from him anyway. Lupin's presence made him uncomfortable today. When Severus looked at him he could not muster any anger. And he didn't want to feel the things that he usually masked with anger. He thought for a moment that Lupin might find this side of Severus quite as interesting as Severus had found Lupin's earlier. But he just didn't want to expose himself to Lupin. Which did make him angry again when he was on his way back to the dungeons.

As he entered his office, Severus was relieved to be alone for once. He sighed and passed a hand over his face, trying to brush off the after-effects of this exhausting day. For a few moments he felt the humiliation burning in him again, but then he managed to shake it off with an effort and decided to get some work done before turning in, to distract his mind and busy it with something other than the Boggart-Severus to think about before going to bed. But when he walked round his desk, he was taken aback by something lying on it. Startled, he noticed that it was the packet of sweets that Lupin had wanted to give him before lunch. Licorice ravens. An annoying swooping sensation filled Severus's stomach. What was that doing here? Severus picked up the packet and found a note lying underneath it. As he looked at it, he saw that it was written in quite an untidy hand. He squinted at it and deciphered the words with difficulty.

 _A peace offering._

And as he turned the note around, he found another sentence written on the back:

 _But I swear I really only meant to be nice in the first place. (Please accept it this time.)_

Severus stared at it and couldn't quite believe his eyes. Then he snorted and turned first the note then the packet in his hands. He could detect no trap and after a moment's consideration he squashed the urge to throw them into the fire. He thought that he deserved this, that Lupin's money, as little as he had, was well invested in sweets for him. It was only the first installment of the payback Lupin owed him. It was by far not enough. But as Severus prised open the packet of licorice ravens, he thought that he could live with the taste of Lupin's debt and the consistency of his guilt. And he could hate him in peace in his rooms that night, eating the ravens, that desperately flapped their wings as he popped them into his mouth with indecent enjoyment. Of course he would never admit that to Lupin, and he wondered what the werewolf would say if he knew. It was definitely worthwhile to accept Lupin's apologies. Especially if they were made of licorice every time.


	5. Lesson Five: Water Under The Bridge

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: With this chapter I think I've achieved what I wanted: to make it more believable in every respect. One of my favourites from the original. Looking forward to everybody's opinion. And thanks for your unwavering support JJ, I always love to read what you think :).

* * *

 **Lesson Five: Water Under The Bridge**

Over the following days, Severus discovered that it was by far easier to hate the werewolf and nourish his anger at him in peace when he wasn't present. This encouraged him to avoid Lupin best he could, though it was rather harder than he would have liked with the werewolf trying to talk to him whenever it was possible. Severus had lost no word about the peace offering, and Lupin had not inquired. He seemed to be glad that Severus hadn't chucked it at his head the morning after finding it in his office. And, Severus supposed in discomfort, Lupin seemed to have looked through him again and found somewhere inside him the licorice ravens, that he had eaten with some inappropriate relish, as though they were Lupin's guilt solidified. But since Lupin had gone back to his usual unaffected, friendly behaviour, Severus had lost some of his satisfaction.

Whenever anybody mentioned Lupin's name Severus would feel a flare of fury rise up inside him and direct his most menacing glare at the person who had uttered it. But as he didn't have a chance to bully or humiliate Lupin in front of the students or their fellow teachers – due to his resolution to avoid him – he needed to revenge himself on a substitute. And who would be better suited than that dunderhead Longbottom? So Severus took to bullying him worse than ever in Lupin's stead, who would probably not have done Severus the favour of letting himself be bullied anyway. It was partly the boy's fault, too, after all, that the whole school was still talking about that Boggart incident.

This strategy had another advantage: seeing that the boy he had wanted to help was now suffering from his mistake made Lupin's guilt grow immeasurably. One day Severus saw Lupin's brow so creased that he knew the werewolf was going to do something about it. He was prepared for a decent row, but was disappointed when Lupin decided to talk to the boy rather than his tormentor. His strategy was apology once again, not confrontation. He was taking responsibility and very Gryffindorishly so. Severus found him standing in the Great Hall with Longbottom, beside the giant hourglasses, when he ascended the narrow staircase leading to his office to have dinner. He stopped in the shadows to eavesdrop.

"… heard that Professor Snape is giving you an especially hard time these days and I feel responsible," Lupin was saying in that mild voice of his, giving Longbottom a look of guilty sympathy. As though he knew how it was to be bullied. But he had no idea. "I want to apologise for getting you in such trouble. I would talk to Professor Snape if I didn't think that it would only make things worse. He – ah – isn't exactly fond of me."

And how right he was. Severus smirked to himself and was satisfied that Lupin had at least realised that his words did not impress Severus. On the other hand, Severus would have been interested in that conversation, wondering if Lupin was more affected when it wasn't him who was the victim of Severus's bullying but a student. It might have been worthwhile to discuss this with Lupin. Alas, the werewolf was too sensible. And he would probably just have frustrated Severus as usual.

"If there is anything I can do for you," Lupin went on but Longbottom shook his head, and to Severus's surprise, he was smiling.

"I liked the lesson, Professor," he said and seemed much more confident than Severus had ever seen him, "it was the first time I really felt like I wasn't the worst at something to do with a wand. It was a good feeling. Professor Snape has been bullying me forever, I suppose worse than bad is still just bad – and it was worth it. So, I'll be fine. Thanks, Professor Lupin."

Severus rolled his eyes at such sickening Gryffindor sentimentality when Lupin put on an expression of mingled worry and pride. It was like in one of those Witch Weekly photograph stories. Not that he had ever read one of those! He couldn't help it if Vector left the magazine lying around open in the staffroom.

"Well, if you are sure … you know, I think that with some encouragement and patience you will discover that there is very much more hidden inside you still. I believe that nobody ever took the time to look for it properly," said Lupin and together they walked to dinner still talking but their voices were drowned by those of the chattering students that were now starting to fill the Hall. Severus was sure, though, that the rest of their conversation would revolve around Longbottom's nonexistent hidden potential. If that was the aptitude for teaching that Albus and McGonagall had been talking about, Severus agreed that very few of the staff possessed it. But he did not want it.

What he wanted was the peace that he had never realised was present in the castle only when Lupin was not there. Never had he noticed that there was a calm at Hogwarts that Lupin disturbed violently. Though Severus had effectively reduced the laughing and scared everybody so thoroughly of using Lupin's name in his presence that he had restored a certain amount of quiet around himself, he still felt as though he would only rest peacefully again when Lupin was gone. Sometimes when he strode through the corridors he still saw a small grin or heard a stifled snicker – which he would both punish with a week's detention at least! – but mostly he seemed to only imagine people laughing at him when they were actually laughing about something else. Severus blamed this paranoia on Lupin. His indignation was such that, since the frightened rumour had spread that Severus could read minds, nobody really dared to even remember the Boggart story anymore, for fear of detentions too vindictive to even imagine.

"Please stop sulking, Severus," Albus said at dinner as Severus's eyes drifted malignantly into Lupin's direction. "No harm has been done. Remus has apologised. Behave like a grown-up and let the matter rest."

Severus glared at him. He wondered if he'd still say that if it had been him in the dress with the vulture-topped hat. But then again, Albus would probably have found it very funny indeed even if it had been him. Severus sighed. But Albus didn't have a reputation to lose.

"'No harm done'," Severus repeated between clenched teeth, "maybe not to you. But they are still laughing behind my back."

Albus shook his head, smiling slightly. "Ah, Severus, if anything their fear of you has increased," he said quietly, "just yesterday I overheard two first-years talking about you as though you were Lord Voldemort himself – You-Know-Who, they said – and they seemed quite frightened indeed of their next lesson with you. I doubt if some laughter can scratch your iron defence. You are placing too much importance on it. Remus did not mean to cause you trouble, he just had an ingenious idea that was too precious to waste. And he helped an insecure boy discover his capabilities."

Severus scowled at him. Why did everybody talk about Lupin as though he had done something great, something to be admired? Why did nobody care that Severus was the victim, that he had been humiliated? Albus couldn't possibly believe that it was that easy to just leave this behind. When Severus didn't answer, Albus watched him poking his chicken for a while before folding his hands on the table and drawing breath to continue. Severus rolled his eyes.

"Maybe such a comic relief was due," he said and Severus gave him a scandalised look. "Now the students who have always been cowering before you know that you are just human, too, and that there is somebody who dares treat you like just another man, not like Severus Snape the intimidating Potions master. It was instructive. It will be far easier for them to study under you and learn what you have to teach them. I have always said that the hilarious effect of imagining somebody you fear in a lacy dress and a funny hat helps you immensely to keep a cool head. I am sure that Neville Longbottom, at least, has profited in more than one way from Remus's inadvertent joke."

It was impossible for Severus to put into words how incensed he was. He could only stare at Albus and wonder at his impertinence. Inadvertent, as if! Lupin had at least had the decency to pretend he was sorry and hadn't meant to make Severus a laughing stock. Albus's appreciation of Lupin's deed was, however, plain, unprecedented disrespect in Severus's eyes.

"And you think that that is a positive outcome?" asked Severus incredulously and eyed Albus as though he had gone mad.

"Oh, yes, Severus," replied Albus, returning to his own chicken, "we are, after all, a school, where it is most important to teach children effectively and provide a comfortable working climate. Speaking of which, the staff are far more relaxed around you, too, now that they know that the limit of your tolerance cannot even be reached by putting you in a dress. I daresay you will find many of them stopping to tiptoe around you. They seem to have realised that your bark is worse than your bite."

"Be careful now, Dumbledore," growled Severus, who was gripping his fork so firmly that the gold cut into his fingers. "I might reconsider my decision to let Lupin live. I might –"

"Do not try to make me believe what I know to be empty threats," said Albus pleasantly, looking at him with twinkling blue eyes. "I recommended to your colleagues not to try anything like that themselves, for I believe that there is something about Remus that prevented you from reacting as viciously as you might have done, at least when face to face with him. I do not believe that anybody but Minerva or me would have got away as relatively unscathed as Remus, though you must know that your pain hurt Remus more than any revenge you could have planned for him would."

"Pain," huffed Severus, averting his eyes, and stubbornly ignoring the bit about Lupin that had sounded all-too-true, "who said anything about _pain_?"

"Your eyes did," said Albus simply, and if he had seen so had Lupin, no doubt. "You are an excellent Occlumens, but hiding such feelings in your eyes when they overpower you suddenly is not one of your strong points."

Severus didn't want to hear anything more about his weaknesses. He got up, leaving his dinner behind half-eaten. Albus did not call him back, he knew it was no good. While Severus was walking slowly through the deserted Entrance Hall, he thought about why he just couldn't seem to be able to deny that Lupin affected him in a way that was far too strong and unusual for him to just ignore. Albus was right, he would have hexed any other of his colleagues if they had put him in a dress, Boggart or not. But he had let Lupin off just like that. Why did Lupin have such an influence on him when Severus seemed to have none at all on the werewolf?

"Severus, wait a moment," said a hoarse voice behind him and footsteps echoed through the Hall. Severus closed his eyes in dismay, wishing Lupin away. Now. But when he opened his eyes again and turned around, the werewolf was still approaching him, smiling mildly. Severus immediately turned on his heel and walked away from him, but instead of offending Lupin or making him go away, it only incited a husky chuckle. "Please, Severus, you can't shake me off, I'm more stubborn than you."

Severus snorted despite himself and came to a halt at the stairs that led into the dungeons, giving in just so Lupin wouldn't follow him into his office or further. Severus would put _nothing_ past him. "That remains to be seen," he said silkily, crossing his arms over his chest. "What do you want now, Lupin? You haven't done anything else to annoy me, have you? I'm not in a very forgiving mood."

"Well, as far as I know you, I would say you never are," said Lupin, putting his hands in his pockets and cocking his head to one side as he chuckled again and forced that odd shiver through Severus's body. "No, I wanted to talk to you about a certain matter."

Remembering the conversation with Longbottom earlier, Severus gave Lupin a look of mingled irritation and oddly eager expectation. "Why, is this going to be a 'you cannot treat me like this' talk?" he asked suspiciously and narrowed his eyes at Lupin, who raised his eyebrows, seemingly confused.

"What?" he said and the corners of his mouth twitched. "No, I have no complaints. Quite the contrary. This was going to be an 'I had not the slightest idea and am very sorry' kind of talk."

It was Severus's turn to be confused. And his patience had not improved since the Boggart incident. "What the heck are you talking about?" he snapped and Lupin's amber eyes flickered away from his for a moment. He was standing at exactly the right distance once more, as though he knew how close he could come to Severus without being _too_ close. Still, he was closer than he had ever been since arriving at Hogwarts. As Lupin shook his hair out of his eyes, Severus got a whiff of some sweet scent, but it was gone before Severus could analyse it.

"I mean that I did not know that you wanted the Defence job," said Lupin and his expression became somehow odd. In between amused and apologetic. "I had no idea. I am sorry that I have caused you so much displeasure, I believed it was simply my presence that annoyed you, but now I see that there are a few more things that don't agree with you."

"Your presence certainly agrees least with me," retorted Severus and Lupin's lips twitched again. "Everybody knows that I want to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. I have watched a dozen people get the post I wanted from the start. Even before you arrived here, everybody in this castle knew that we would not get along."

"Maybe in this castle everybody knows," said Lupin thoughtfully, running his thumb slowly over his chin, "but I had not seen you for ages. You can believe me that I was unaware. Albus left me in the dark about a few things that he knew would make me uncomfortable."

"Don't tell me it would have changed anything about your decision to come here, Lupin," said Severus disbelievingly and gave him a scathing look.

"I would have come here nonetheless, you are right," said Lupin gently as students started streaming out of the Great Hall, "but I would have been prepared. And I would have approached you differently. I just want you to know that I did not steal the job from you on purpose."

Severus snorted and shook his head. "Forget it, Lupin, as you have noticed there are plenty of other reasons why your presence here causes me 'displeasure'," he sneered and turned away to descend the stairs. "Your company for instance. So, if you'll excuse me …"

Lupin did not follow him but remained standing at the top of the stairs. After a few moments, he called after Severus. "I am glad you enjoyed the sweets, at least," he said and Severus turned to glare at him, but when his eyes had readjusted to the bright light in the Hall, Lupin had gone. Impertinent werewolf.

Severus wanted to make Lupin angry for once, but fought down the urge to run after him and retort something. Though he felt a certain need to try and upset Lupin, to make him discard his calm demeanour, once again nothing he had said had offended Lupin. The werewolf's mask seemed to have strengthened and no snide remark could wipe the smile off his face or make the politeness crumble. This frustrated Severus so much that he felt affirmed in his decision to stay away from Lupin and hate him from afar, which, as he noticed, had a different, but nevertheless interesting effect on the werewolf.

Whenever they came across each other over the following days, Lupin tried to talk to him, not just in the staffroom, or at meals, but in the corridors and the halls, even when they came across each other while patrolling at night. When there was no possibility to make it seem like a coincidence, Lupin was unabashed by his obvious attempts to cross Severus's path on purpose and make conversation. Sometimes he even caught up with Severus in the corridors or doubled back where he had come from when Severus passed him in the opposite direction, just to use the encounter to annoy Severus. Severus either ignored him or told him most eloquently ("Get lost!") that he was not interested in the slightest in talking to him about whichever topic. But he knew as well as Lupin that there was no way that he could avoid him forever. Which was probably why Lupin was being so relentlessly persistent, always in an indecently good mood, never taking offence when Severus shook him off. After a while, Severus started to think that it was a game for Lupin. And he was winning.

Though Severus never answered Lupin's questions, he was aware by now that the werewolf was interested in him, or pretended to be. He asked questions exclusively about Severus's habits and interests, his opinions and attitudes, his likes and dislikes, his past and his life in general. Severus supposed that some of those questions were answered more or less accurately by the rest of the staff, with whom Lupin got along very well. He had now had tea with Albus, Flitwick, and McGonagall, and Severus had seen him with Hagrid in the grounds. The only person apart from Severus who still didn't want anything to do with him was Filch. Lupin fitted in well with the other teachers and seemed to make good enough company. At least there was more laughter in the staffroom when he was there, more rapt silence among the teachers when he spoke. Severus loathed him all the more for his likability. He wasn't fooled. And he was determined not to give the werewolf the satisfaction of allowing closer contact.

But again he knew that one thing would force him to allow at least closer professional contact. As the end of September drew nearer, so did the first full moon of term. This was a bitter prospect, since it meant tolerating Lupin in his office when he wished they were living on different planets altogether. The timing was inconvenient, too, since Severus had felt a definite increase in the frequency and strength of the shivers Lupin incited in him. Those husky chuckles were hell. As were those penetrating amber eyes, and to top it all off, Severus had noticed that sweet scent about Lupin again that he could never get to inhale deeply enough to find out what it was. Severus tried not to get too close to Lupin for frustration was now coming from all sides and to all senses, and still Lupin's smiles were staunch and the twitching of his lips was mysterious and his mask was in place and seemingly unbreakable. And it was still intriguing, even more so than it was irritating, though Severus would not admit it.

Severus spent most of his waking moments cursing the werewolf in every thinkable and unthinkable way, but it didn't seem to be working: the werewolf's health improved instead of declining, and he seemed more satisfied by the day, not to speak of the vast majority of students who had named him their favourite teacher. Severus's mind was so preoccupied with the werewolf, in too many unwanted ways, that he just needed to distract himself. So he took a walk round the lake in the evening to let go of the most annoying or bothering events of the day before turning in. The waxing moon was shining brightly already, and it made the grass gleam and the water of the lake look like a giant mirror. When he had concluded his round, he sat down on the stone steps before the castle with a weary sigh and gazed over the grounds. It was late and he had wished for Black to wander into his field of vision, but no madman was to be seen anywhere. Fate didn't even grant him that little satisfaction.

It had rained earlier today and the grass and the trees and the stone of the castle were still damp. The air was full of that scent. The scent that would rise from the moist soil and stone, filling the nose like the fumes of a potion. It was as if he could see the scent, hanging in the air like fog, smelling of all the things one usually didn't notice. Soil and stone spread their specific odours that could be clearly distinguished from the smell of the wet grass, and from far away a light breeze brought the Forest's very own fragrance to Severus's nose. He inhaled deeply, eyes closed, feeling calm and relaxed, and thought –

"A wonderful scent."

Severus opened his eyes in surprise and whirled round to face the source of the mild voice. Lupin was standing behind him a little to his right, smiling, his gaze wandering over the grounds. Severus stared at him. He hadn't heard Lupin coming and suddenly he felt rather vulnerable without his wand in immediate reach. The scent of the rain had made him grow careless. What if Black had –

"Don't you think, Severus?" the werewolf interrupted his thoughts and Severus noticed that Lupin was suddenly looking down at him, meeting his gaze with his amber eyes which were gleaming in the moonlight. Severus didn't answer. He felt a jolt in his stomach and looked away, giving in to Lupin, showing a weakness yet again. The werewolf chuckled softly and Severus tried to hide the shiver running through his body.

Lupin sat down beside Severus, leaving a gap of about two feet between them. Severus shot him an indignant sidelong glance and saw the werewolf looking up at the moon as if transfixed by its white light. It made his skin even paler and silvery and Severus wondered if he looked like him now, glowing like a ghost.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Lupin whispered hoarsely, his eyes never leaving the moon. "In a horrific way."

Severus followed his gaze and his eyes came to rest on the bright, imperfect orb. He did not make an answer. He did not believe that anyone in this castle could understand what Lupin meant. When Lupin sighed, Severus turned to look at him again. Suddenly Severus was very aware of the lines around his eyes and the grey in his brown hair. He looked much older now, with that tired and apprehensive expression on his face. As if he'd lived his life three times over. And at the same time there was a strange look of awe in his eyes, as if he couldn't decide whether he should admire the moon or curse it, be grateful he was alive, werewolf and all, or hate it. It was … intriguing.

"Yes, it is," Lupin answered his own question, when Severus denied him an answer of his own. "And it is my constant tormentor. It causes me pain and fear. And I …" Then he faltered as if unable to say anything more. Suddenly the smile struck down the frown and Lupin turned to Severus, his eyes still sad and weary. "I am inexpressibly grateful that you enable me to forget some of the fear, Severus. It is the most wonderful gift anyone has ever made me … even if it wasn't your intention to give it."

There was a strange feeling welling up inside Severus that seemed to be returning after such a long absence that he had forgotten what it was called, though he could faintly remember its face. Though he still didn't reply, he did not avert his eyes, either, but held Lupin's amber gaze and wondered if his own black eyes gave away that emotion that he had once known, and if Lupin would recognise it and remind Severus of its name. He was fascinated by Lupin's expression, his lips curled into a slight smile while his brow was definitely showing sadness and sorrow, and his eyes … Severus hadn't thought it possible that happiness and worried fear could really be displayed in one pair of eyes at one and the same moment. When he noticed that he was the cause of the worry, that strange, familiar feeling grew even stronger. Lupin obviously expected an answer from him but he didn't know what to say. He didn't usually have such conversations.

"Well … I … not at all …" he said stupidly and could have slapped himself. _Very good answer, indeed, Snape._ But Lupin's smile only broadened. Severus hastened to add something rude. "I'm only doing my job. I would not brew the Potion if Dumbledore had not demanded it, so no sentimental feelings …"

Lupin chuckled again and Severus cursed him as he shivered once more. "I know, I would not expect you to do me a favour or do something nice for the sake of it," he said hoarsely and ran a hand through his hair as he sighed, spreading that sweet scent again that Severus could not recognise as it mingled with the scent of the rain. "I am not deluding myself about your feelings for me. I just hoped we could let bygones be bygones. Well, I'm already satisfied that you didn't run away again, even though I disturbed you deliberately. So, it seems that we are at least capable of exchanging a few civil words without a Full-body Bind being put on you."

Giving him a look, Severus snorted. "I would like to see you try," he said smoothly, and Lupin smiled, rubbing his neck and looking at the moon again. He seemed to be uncomfortable with the topic he had started. Directing jinxes at Severus appeared to be a delicate spot.

Lupin rested his elbows on his knees and looked at the lake where the Giant Squid was moonbathing. Indeed, Severus didn't know why he was still here with him, why he hadn't got up and left when the werewolf had arrived. But something was keeping him here, was keeping him sitting quite still. Was it curiosity, fascination, or that feeling whose name was at the tip of his tongue but wouldn't come to him? The fact that he did not know which it was, or if it was something that didn't occur to him, made his wish to stay where he was even stronger.

Lupin sighed and rubbed his forehead, drawing his shoulders up as though to protect his neck from a cold draught. "You should not dwell on that Boggart story anymore, Severus, it costs you more energy than it's worth to care about what other people say about you."

Giving Lupin an annoyed look, Severus wondered why the werewolf brought up this topic now when he had expressed his satisfaction about their civil conversation. "That is easy for you to say," he snapped, straightening up, "because it isn't you they're laughing at."

Lupin smiled and lowered his eyes. "I know how it is to be the object of slander and derisive mockery," he said softly, and Severus felt some strange and surprising constriction in his throat. "And … they are not laughing at you –"

"Oh, no, of course they are laughing _with_ me, are they?" spat Severus, suddenly angry that Lupin did not take him seriously. But still he did not get up and walk away. Something was still forcing him to hear Lupin out. "Do you see me laughing?"

Lupin looked at his feet and sighed again. "No, never …" he replied with a small smile, but this time it didn't look genuine. "What I meant is, they're laughing at an image of you, they're not laughing at something you did or said or even experienced in real life. That is something that happens all the time, to everybody."

"It's still laughing …" Severus muttered. He wanted to tell someone how much it upset him and why. And somehow Lupin seemed the perfect person for that. At that very moment, Severus felt that it was right to continue the conversation, although the urge to bang _Lupin's_ head against a wall this time was very present. "Dumbledore thinks it a positive development, because it relieves the tension around me. He called it a comic relief!"

He waited for Lupin's laughter, but it never came. "How often do people laugh at me quite openly about my shabby robes, even here at Hogwarts, how often do people talk in loathing disgust about my condition even though they don't even know me? And even if they do know me, the knowledge changes everything," said Lupin still very quietly but also firmly, looking straight ahead at Hagrid's hut. "It happens to me whenever I meet somebody new, whenever I pass strangers in a street. Whenever another employer or another acquaintance finds out about my being a werewolf. But if I brooded about it every time, if I let it get to me, I'd never have a quiet moment again. I've learnt that it doesn't matter what others do or say."

He said no more but looked round at Severus and gave him an intent look that seemed to signal his attention. It appeared to mean that he knew that Severus had a few more things to say. For several moments, Severus thought about what Lupin had said and found that he might have judged him too soon, had not considered Lupin's own experiences with humiliation and ill-treatment. Had he been told all that by anybody other than Lupin, Severus would have said that he did not care, but from Lupin's mouth, in his hoarse voice, that advice sounded sincere and significant, the understanding sounded genuine. As did Lupin's apparent interest in him. And despite himself, Severus decided that he wanted Lupin to be the one to listen to him, for he didn't have to fear the replies Albus or McGonagall would have made. Severus did not feel as vulnerable in front of him, not as pathetic as he did when talking to those two. He just felt like talking to a familiar stranger who understood, who would not laugh at or dismiss what he had to say. Because Lupin was the only one who had truly felt sorry about what had happened.

"I feel transferred into the past, when your _friends_ … when the whole school laughed at me," Severus pressed and saw Lupin frown. "They all think it served me right to be put in a dress by you. They think you are a right hero for daring, that you've got some nerve. The students, the teachers, even McGonagall! They say I shouldn't make such a fuss. Because they either hate me or don't care about what I feel!" He felt slightly awkward as he said it, but when it had been uttered he realised how much it bothered him. It was funny how painful it was, since he disliked many of the students and teachers of Hogwarts, and he surely didn't care much about their feelings. But McGonagall and Albus … that dull ache was back.

"Your colleagues don't hate you," Lupin said firmly and his hoarse voice sent tingles through Severus's body. "From what I gathered, I can say with some certainty that they respect you. Though they admitted that sometimes you are quite unpleasant company. Some of them consider you their friend, like Minerva, Albus, Filius, and Pomona. You are a difficult person, and students are quick to hate – I'm not going to pretend that you don't give them good reason – but your house and your colleagues don't hate you."

Severus met his amber eyes and wondered if Lupin really believed what he was saying or if it was just one of those Gryffindor duties to make everybody feel better, even if it meant that he had to lie. But somehow it made Severus feel a strange kind of good that the werewolf hadn't just told him that if everyone hated him, he only got what he deserved and provoked. And then there was a question on Severus's mind that he just couldn't hold back.

"And you?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at Lupin, anticipating his answer. "Do you hate me, then?"

Lupin looked startled and cocked his head to one side, raising his eyebrows. "No," he said simply, but he wasn't smiling. Severus could hardly believe that what Lupin was telling him the truth. He had done his best to show the werewolf that he hated him powerfully and yet the other still didn't return the feeling? Then again, right now Severus felt only weak remainders of that hatred in his body. It was as though, since Lupin's arrival, his accumulated presence over the past half hour or so – the longest time they had spent in each other's company yet – had erased the hatred slowly but gradually. As though the longer he had the chance to see Lupin up close, the fewer things he found about him that he loathed. Or maybe he just found more things that he didn't seem to be able to loathe. But he still didn't know what on earth that strange feeling was, growing stronger and stronger inside of him. This effect was what he had wanted to prevent by avoiding Lupin. And the thing that he hated most at the moment was not Lupin as a person, but the new and powerful effect he had on him. And that he had no effect on Lupin at all.

"But you know that I hate you," Severus muttered, unsure whether he should say something like that now, and ignorant as to the reason why he even cared. "It is no secret. Everybody knows I hate you."

This statement didn't appear to hurt Lupin or to incite any other negative feelings in him, only a flicker of guilty regret passed over his face almost unnoticed. He smiled silently for a few moments and folded his hands with a sigh. There was a soft breeze once more, ruffling his hair and whirling his sweet scent into Severus's direction, too fleeting to recognise. "No, you do not hate me, Severus," he said and chuckled at Severus's bemused expression. "You hate a shadow of me, a past version of me that has long ceased to exist. I understand your misgivings and I do deserve them, but they are not directed at the man I am now but at the boy you knew. I hope that you will realise this one day, but it doesn't hurt me that you hate that boy. There isn't much of him left in me now."

Severus pondered these words, a little bewildered and surprised at Lupin's logic. He did not know if it made sense to him, but it rendered him speechless for a while. Intriguing, that Lupin, too intriguing for Severus's taste. Now his mind had even more information about Lupin to occupy it. And he knew it would be occupied, the last weeks had taught him this. But his mind let go of all those things when he looked out over the grounds, smelling a trace of Lupin's sweet scent on the air. He was silent for a few minutes and against all odds it was a pleasant silence between them. They both inhaled the scent of the rain, enjoying the quiet of the night, and Severus felt at peace somehow, for the first time in ages. His eyes sought Lupin's face again and, taking in his handsome features, pale and faintly lined, illuminated by the pale moonlight, he felt the Boggart incident and all emotions connected to it fall away from him onto the stone steps.

Then Lupin turned his head and their eyes met again. Suddenly Severus felt weak in the knees and had he been standing, he was sure he would have fallen. The amber eyes saw right through him, and it felt as if he were stripped naked and forced to reveal the bottom of his soul without being able to resist, completely defenceless. Then a peaceful smile spread over Lupin's face, and the regret vanished, replaced by subdued joy, returning the boyish youth to his face. As though he had taken off his mask for now.

"I'm glad that you have been able to let go, Severus."

Severus stared. It could not be that he was so obvious. What had he practised Occlumency for all those past years? How could the werewolf see through him like that? Severus was uncomfortable with it. "How –"

"You look at peace," Lupin said calmly. "As though you'd been freed of some load."

Severus kept staring. He couldn't deny it. He felt lighter somehow. He looked up at the sky: the moon still shone brightly above them. Then he saw Sirius, the brightest star, and felt suddenly cold, and he knew it was time to leave. He got to his feet, straightening his robes, closely watched by the werewolf beside him. He noticed that his cold expression had slipped off his face and put it back in place to scowl down at Lupin. The scent of soil and stone was still in his nose and he breathed in, closing his eyes for a short moment, enjoying the mixture. Though they were mingled he could still distinguish them like white and black, like day and night.

"You will start taking the Potion tomorrow. You will need to drink one goblet a day, for a week," he said as coldly and indifferently as he could manage. "I shall be expecting you in my office after lunch to fetch it. Everything else you have to know, I shall tell you then."

"Thank you, I'll be there," the werewolf said and as Severus turned to leave he added, "Goodnight."

"Be on time," Severus called over his shoulder as he walked away, "I have no time to waste waiting for you!"

He entered the Entrance Hall, leaving Lupin and the anger behind on the steps. He glanced at the werewolf's back, then he headed to his office in long strides, wondering how much longer Lupin would stay there, looking at the moon, anticipating the full moon and the Wolfsbane in worried relief. He still had that strange feeling and he still sensed the amber eyes looking right through him, making his legs soft. He hated it. And he didn't. It was most confusing. As soon as the last impression of Lupin's presence had left him, he kindled his loathing again, but it just wouldn't flare as it had used to.

Severus couldn't bear the way Lupin could interest him in what he had to say, the way the werewolf seemed to understand him, or the way he made him talk and then listened to his woes, or the way he had said that he didn't hate him. Or the feeling inside of him that he could not figure out, familiar but unknown, so confusing, so painful, and so pleasant. Severus didn't want it. Any of it. After all that had happened between them in the past. What was that man doing to him? And yet … when he thought of how Lupin had encouraged him, how he had not laughed, Severus felt a tiny little spark of warmth in the pit of his stomach, quickly extinguished by his own coldness. But he had never wanted anyone to get to him again, not like this, not with so much unwanted intensity.

When he arrived in his rooms he changed into his nightshirt and got quickly into bed, exhausted by the past weeks and in need of a refreshing night's sleep. He decided to read through his list of ingredients and the improved instructions for the Wolfsbane Potion again before going to sleep, though he already knew them by heart. Everything needed to be perfect, after all. When he finally put out the light with his wand, which he laid under his pillow as usual, his mind was so clear and he felt so light that he drifted off to sleep as easily a paper boat on a stream.


	6. Lesson Six: Milk of Human Kindness

Title: **Fortune's Might**

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: This is one of my favourite chapters, it was great fun to write, I hope you enjoy it, too. Chase'sGirl19, I think you taking your time is a great compliment, thanks :) I always liked to imagine that Remus took some mischievous pleasure in being persistent about his affection for Severus because it would most certainly annoy Severus greatly. Resevius, I really wanted to keep them as IC as I could this time around, and I think Severus is a very unpleasant person, really, and I didn't want to smooth that over. But that only makes the romance more powerful in my opinion, it's what makes Snupin so fascinating because Remus is such a kind and patient person, and awfully understanding but just as flawed in his own way, so I'm glad you approve ;).

* * *

 **Lesson Six: Milk of Human Kindness**

On the following day, Severus did feel vulnerable, after all. It was almost painful to look Lupin in the eye, so he didn't, but he didn't dare avoid him, either, lest the werewolf took it as a challenge and came to talk to him again. Severus didn't think he could bear talking to him after everything he had said last night. Though he wanted to act as though last night's conversation hadn't taken place, he found it an impossibility. The rude remarks he came up with when Lupin was close got stuck in his throat, all he managed was passive rudeness upon being addressed or looked at: his loathing was still burning very low indeed. He had exposed his feelings to the werewolf, had handed him weapons that Lupin could use against him should he feel that Severus needed a warning. It was infuriating. Severus didn't usually do anything like that, because he knew the dangers it posed.

But it seemed that Lupin had a way of luring such words out of Severus's mouth, if Severus wanted it or not. Severus had a feeling that Lupin had known what bothered him before Severus had even told him. As though his amber eyes saw things not even Severus's Legilimency could find. It made him avoid Lupin's eyes even more stubbornly. Though he knew that eye contact was probably unnecessary for Lupin's brand of knowing. Severus did not want him to know. But he knew that once again there was a moment when he wouldn't be able to prevent it anymore, and that moment arrived rather more quickly than last time.

He wished he hadn't invited Lupin to fetch the Wolfsbane, it made him vulnerable once more, for it brought Lupin into his private space again, enabled him to look at his belongings. Perhaps if he entered Lupin's office, he would feel as though he had compensated for Lupin's advantage, but too much friendliness on his part would only encourage the werewolf to think that last night's talk had changed Severus's attitude. He didn't want to give Lupin the impression that he was seeing in him more than a nuisance. That feeling had strengthened rather than lessened. And what Lupin had said about his hatred didn't change his mind all-that-much. Lupin was not a boy anymore, but that boy whom Severus still hated was part of him and if Severus had to pay and to feel guilty for what he had done as a boy, so did Lupin.

Since the Wolfsbane Potion took rather a long time to make, Severus used the whole morning to brew it, and let it simmer while he was at lunch, tucking in ravenously, for when he worked nothing else could penetrate his mind and he would forget that he was hungry or thirsty. It was a complex enough Potion to try his skill but like every single one of his first attempts, it turned out just perfect. It was green with a putrid smell and a thickly consistency. Despite himself, Severus smirked at the thought of the face Lupin would make when he was told to drink it. It wasn't particularly appetising. Lupin ambled into the Hall when Severus was almost finished with lunch, but he did not smile around like he would usually do and he did not look as nonchalant and at ease as he usually did. His eyes were directed at the floor so Severus dared watch him bite his lip and furrow his brow and mutter to himself, his hands picking at his frayed sleeves. Apparently Lupin _was_ affected by some things.

But he arrived in Severus's office after lunch, though punctuality usually didn't seem to be his strong point, and knocked politely just as Severus returned from his laboratory with a goblet he had filled to the rim with foul-smelling Potion. Severus cleared his throat and debated with himself for a moment whether he should set the goblet on the table or hand it to Lupin, risking involuntary body contact. Deciding that setting it down was safer, lest it fell to the ground when it was handed over, he straightened his robes, scolding himself and feeling slightly silly for making such a fuss, and found himself nervous and dreading a continuation or mention of the conversation he had had with the werewolf. Pushing it all to the back of his mind, Severus felt as though he hadn't seen Lupin in ages rather than only twenty minutes ago, as he said, "Enter."

The door opened slowly and Lupin stepped inside, his eyes drifting first over the floor, then round the office to come to rest on Severus's face. He smiled and closed the door behind himself, and as he did so, Severus saw his hand trembling on the doorknob. As he looked at Severus he did not give away any of his apparent anxiety, but his hands did not lie and after a few moments his brow creased a little, though his smile did not waver.

"Good afternoon, Severus," he said and his politeness did not lessen as he strolled across the room, stopping short of the desk and looking expectantly at Severus. He seemed to notice the goblet but did not take it. Perhaps he was waiting for instructions. Or reassurance. When he received neither, he nodded at the goblet. "Is that it?"

"Obviously," said Severus, raising an eyebrow at him. "You need to drink it before it turns cold, you may not add anything to improve the taste and you should not eat or drink anything but clear water after you have drunk it. Your next meal will be dinner. Understand?"

"Oh, yes, I understand," said Lupin vaguely, considering the goblet and waving a hand over it to bring the smoke closer to his nose and inhale it. "Ah, that smell is …" he said then with an apologetic grimace and Severus saw comprehension dawning on his tired face. "You mentioned the taste for a reason, did you not?"

"I did," said Severus and smirked at Lupin, whose eyes turned to the ceiling as though he was praying for strength. "Drink it and you will find out whether it is as disagreeable as Belby makes out."

"Well, I suppose I will have to," replied Lupin and as he reached for the Potion with trembling fingers, Severus saw, with an odd jolt in his stomach, that Lupin's eyes gave away his nervousness now as clearly as though he had once more discarded his mask. Was it the unknown that affected him? Was it because he did not know what to expect, because something he had lived with for almost thirty years was now going to change? Severus was intrigued as he watched Lupin raise the goblet to his mouth, then wrinkle his nose and lower it again, taking a few deep breaths through his mouth. "Quick does it, I think," he muttered, and looked rather nauseous as he closed his eyes and touched the goblet to his lips, tilting it to drink the whole in one draught.

Despite himself, Severus admired Lupin's nerve and wondered how he managed not to retch, for the dose was a big one. The werewolf certainly looked like retching when he set down the goblet, taking deep breaths once more, his eyes screwed up and his hands gripping the back of the chair opposite Severus's. It looked like an enormous effort for Lupin to endure the taste and control the feeling of nausea, and Severus thought that Belby might, after all, have underestimated the taste.

"Keep it in, Lupin, I only have one dose to spare and I would prefer to save it for an accident," said Severus with some amusement as Lupin banged his fist on the back of the chair he was gripping in an obvious struggle with his stomach. Lupin nodded, though, and opened his eyes, which were watering slightly. He seemed to have won the struggle.

"I do not believe," he said breathlessly and Severus could not help but appreciate the increased hoarseness of his voice, "that there exist any words to describe how utterly disgusting this is. And I doubt that Belby found any. Sometimes I wonder if it is 'the more disgusting, the better' for you Potioneers or if you just like to see the drinkers suffer."

"A bit of both in my case," said Severus mockingly, and Lupin chuckled huskily and ran a nervous hand through his greying hair. Severus knew that he didn't feel like chuckling, actually, but his nervousness forced him to.

"Well, as long as it works," Lupin added after a few moments of composing himself.

"It does, never fear," said Severus and considered Lupin closely for signs of immediate side effects. But other than Lupin growing even paler from the shock of tasting something so disgusting – Severus tried not to snort with mirth – he seemed perfectly normal. "Should you notice any complications or feel in any way different from usual, report it to me at once."

Lupin raised his eyebrows and his eyes showed his nervousness even more clearly than before. They were like swirling gold now, reflecting the flickering flames of the torches. "Am I to expect complications?" he asked uncertainly. Severus sneered at him. Ignorant werewolf.

"In the case of a revolutionary discovery that has not yet been tested on many different subjects, it is always wise to expect the worst," he replied, applying an ominous tone on purpose. Lupin frowned at him. "Oh, you don't need to fear death. Others have taken it and lived. But it could be that you don't react very well to the Potion, in which case I can modify it if possible. There might be certain unpleasant side effects, since the Potion has not been perfected over years but only just been invented. Should you notice anything out of the ordinary, tell me and I shall see if it is within normal parameters or if it is a side effect."

"I am sure you can find a solution for any problem to do with Potions, so I'm not going to worry too much," said Lupin and indeed, as he looked around once more and back at the empty goblet, some of his anxiety seemed to leave him. Severus tried to push away the surreptitious feeling of satisfaction at Lupin's words. Lupin laid a hand to his stomach and bent over for a moment, making a sound of great discomfort. "I think it was a mistake to drink it in one," he said, but sounded amused this time. "I'll know better tomorrow. When I think about all the things that I now don't have to fear anymore, I feel that a few moments of disgust are a small sacrifice."

"Good medicine always tastes bitter," said Severus quietly, cleaning the goblet and setting it down on a shelf behind him. He did not know why he was waiting patiently for Lupin to feel ready to leave, instead of just throwing him out, but he could not help himself. When he turned back to the werewolf, his amber eyes were giving him a curious look and Severus felt somewhat trapped, defenceless again, anticipating some unpleasant conversation. Lupin wore that knowing look again. But he did not say anything this time that would have indicated what he knew.

"True," he replied thoughtfully, giving Severus a vague smile, "and you must know, right, Severus?"

"That is right," said Severus, narrowing his eyes at Lupin. Then Lupin chuckled and shook his head, straightening up.

"I suspect that Belby did it on purpose," he said shrewdly, "he is not a werewolf sympathiser at all, as far as I know. I heard it was mere coincidence that he discovered this Potion."

"Like most revolutionary inventions," said Severus slowly, "but I can assure you that there is nothing to be done about the taste, my improvements of the Potion have, if anything, made it worse. The combination of ingredients creates the effect, the taste is a byproduct, an unpleasant one, admittedly. But not to be changed. Neither Belby, nor I, meant ill by it."

Giving Severus a twitching smile, Lupin put his hands in his pockets, seemingly at ease again. "Though I do believe you, I cannot help feeling that you would find it very entertaining to torture me with that taste. I can even imagine you making it more disgusting to make me give up on it. But, as I said, I am more stubborn than you."

"You are right to suspect something like that from me," said Severus silkily, "and I wish I could do it without messing with the Potion, but alas, it is impossible. I do not fancy being blamed for the wreckage of your rooms."

"I suggested the Shrieking Shack," said Lupin softly, looking around again, "but Albus insisted … it will work for me, won't it? Definitely?" he added seriously and gave Severus a searching, rather stern look. "You said I might not react well, does that include a possible failure of the Potion?"

Severus wanted to say yes, just so Lupin would take responsibility and leave, after all. But the possibility did not exist and … somehow, he did not feel like lying. The Shrieking Shack was not entirely safe, either, but surely Albus would talk Lupin into staying with the Whomping Willow as his guard. It had been good enough in the past. The werewolf was too happy at Hogwarts to leave now. Too popular, really. What use was it to fight a losing battle with a weak lie?

"Do not offend me with your lack of confidence in my skill," said Severus instead, and succeeded in injecting some coldness into his voice. "The Potion will work. I was talking of headaches, nausea, insomnia, and the like. Preferably all at once, if I could have a say. But you will stay sane during the full moon. I guarantee it."

Reassured, Lupin nodded and smiled more freely. "Forgive me. Of course I trust you," he said and Severus gave him an incredulous look that he didn't seem to notice. Silly werewolf, trusting him. "I was a little apprehensive, didn't know what to expect," Lupin went on, chuckling, "but that was rather unspectacular."

"Did you think that there would be fireworks or smoking nostrils?" asked Severus sarcastically and Lupin shrugged. "Its effect is not immediate, it unfolds over time. I daresay you will feel it after a couple more doses, but being no expert on werewolves and having found nothing in the description of the Potion, I do not know when or how exactly it will manifest itself. You can report it to me for further study. I would love to tell Belby what he missed. He only listed the ultimate effect of sanity in the transformed werewolves. And the Headmaster acquired it from the man himself, which tells us he did not find it necessary to mention anything more."

Lupin had listened silently and now cocked his head to the side, with the corners of his mouth twitching again. "I will let you know of any changes I notice," he said obligingly. "I thank you very much for your work and your time. I'll have to prepare my next lesson now, please excuse me." And he left with an inclination of his head, closing the door carefully behind him. Severus realised that he had not needed to throw him out, after all. Maybe Lupin did not want to try Severus's patience too much. Or perhaps he had just wanted to be alone with his nervousness after having had his questions answered satisfactorily. But in any case he had left in his wake the blossoming feeling of vulnerability once more. What had he seen in Severus this time?

If Lupin had really seen something, he did not mention it during the following week. He always arrived for his Potion on time after lunch and drank it fast but in individual gulps, always trying to involve Severus in some short conversation before leaving for his next lesson. Severus did not feel inclined to talk, though, trying to prevent Lupin finding out even more about him, and thus Lupin's visits remained short and quiet, though polite on Lupin's part and tolerant on Severus's. Rudeness, spite, and cruelty did not help against Lupin. Coldness was ineffective. What use was it to try them again and again? It would only frustrate Severus. He couldn't risk another situation like the one in front of the castle, when Lupin had got far too close to him, not only physically.

The Potion's taste caused Lupin great discomfort and he had assured Severus that it was unlikely that anyone could ever get used to anything so foul. Severus thought that Lupin's sense of taste must have been polluted by too much sugar, and that that was why he was making such a fuss. But he did not deny that the smell at least promised a taste of decaying rabbit. If that was the case, Lupin's resolution was to be admired, for the goblets were big and the taste stayed long in the mouth without anything to wash it down. But Severus was far from admiring him. He gave him to understand that he found it ungrateful of him to complain about the taste all the time, which silenced Lupin effectively, but didn't banish the grimace from his face. Severus heard him complaining to McGonagall instead, who pitied him obediently, and he smirked to himself as he watched the scene. She scolded him later, but Severus did not care.

On the day before the full moon, Severus saw the nervousness in the werewolf's every movement and heard it in every word he uttered. Lupin knocked over the chair that stood in front of Severus's desk and almost dropped the goblet with Potion when he lifted it to his lips. His voice shook considerably when he laughed about his own clumsiness and apologised, dropping the chair three times before he managed to pick it up and put it back on its legs. Severus considered him silently and when Lupin had drained the goblet, Severus's eyes wandered over his face, the weak smile, the creased brow, and the amber eyes, dull and misty instead of twinkling and clear. Severus caught himself staring into those eyes longingly, wishing back the golden light that usually filled them. Shaking his head at himself, he twirled the goblet between his fingers and after a few seconds' silence he took a deep breath and turned his back on the werewolf, clearing his throat.

"I shall bring the Potion to your office tomorrow," he said quietly, and as Lupin made a questioning noise he added, "I don't want you to knock over something valuable next time."

"Oh, right," said Lupin. "Thank you."

He was rather less inclined to talk today. He seemed a little less himself altogether. Severus wondered if it was the approaching full moon, the Potion, or both. He had no knowledge of the effect the full moon had on werewolves before the transformation. "I also don't want to risk you not being in your rooms in time for nightfall … you are my responsibility, after all. You don't seem too well on your feet at the moment."

"You needn't worry," said Lupin with a weak smile and took his leave, swaying slightly. Severus thought he was right to worry. But he did not want to.

After lunch on the following day, Severus ascended the many stairs to Lupin's office at a careful and unusually slow pace, his eyes on the Potion and his surroundings to make sure that he didn't spill anything or have it spilled by a student or Peeves. When he arrived at the door of the werewolf's office, he knocked three times and when he heard a hoarse "Come in," he opened the door and stepped inside.

"Ah, Severus," smiled Lupin, looking up from some papers he had been brooding over. "Thank you very much for bringing the Potion."

Severus looked him over, finding his hands shaking as they held the papers, which quivered between his fingers. He looked paler than ever, the rings under his eyes were very dark, his hair lank. His amber eyes were positively bleary now and Severus wondered if he could see properly at all. Inquiring after side effects seemed wise, and Severus was curious as to whether Lupin felt what the Potion was doing or not.

"You look dreadful," said Severus truthfully and Lupin chuckled huskily, making Severus shiver. He had got used to it by now. "You said you would report anything out of the ordinary."

"This is not out of the ordinary," said Lupin calmly, getting to his feet. "This is just the full moon taking its toll. I didn't feel any side effects. Every unpleasant feeling I had was just the usual pre-transformation illness. The side effects you mentioned – headaches, nausea, insomnia – all those are symptoms of that illness. If anything, I thought the Potion lessened it a little. I think I reacted quite well to it. I am satisfied, anyway, and I am sure you are to thank. I'm very sorry to disappoint you," he added with an amused smile as he noticed Severus's disgruntled expression. Severus snorted. "You were right, I do feel the effect now. It clears my mind. I wish I understood how it works."

"It would be no good to explain it," said Severus dismissively, as Lupin walked round his desk and came suddenly very close. "You would not understand the subtle effect of the combination of ingredients and brewing." Lupin stopped at exactly the right distance again and took the goblet out of Severus's hand without touching him. He shook his hair out of his eyes and again Severus could smell his sweet scent but it was gone before he could grasp it.

"You are right, of course," the werewolf said and carried the Potion back to his desk. When he sat down again, he gave Severus a curious look, cocked his head to the side and smiled. "Would you care for a cup of tea?"

Severus narrowed his eyes at him, noticing that Lupin was not touching the Potion at all. He raised an eyebrow and gave Lupin an incredulous look. Lupin knew that Severus would not leave without having seen him take the Potion, because it was his responsibility to make sure that Lupin stayed safe. Was Lupin actually prolonging Severus's stay on purpose? Did he actually want him to drink a cup of tea with him? Perhaps that was why he didn't drink the Potion. He knew that he should not eat or drink anything for several hours after drinking it. "Tea?" asked Severus just to make sure he hadn't misheard. He gave his voice a mocking inflection to show his scepticism.

"Why, yes," said Lupin pleasantly, turning the goblet on the table. "Between colleagues … or Potioneer and patient, whichever you prefer. Don't look at me like that," he chuckled as Severus's expression became disbelieving, "do you find my presence so unbearable?"

Severus smirked and stepped a little closer. "Yes," he said in a silky voice and enjoyed the flash of unpleasant surprise in Lupin's eyes, that were so dull today. Then he jerked his head at the old kettle that was standing on one of Lupin's shelves. "Yes, why not?" Lupin's face lit up and he tapped the teakettle with his wand, making it steam. Then he took two teabags from a dusty tin and set two chipped cups on the table.

"Teabags?" Severus sneered, taking the cup from Lupin as he pulled the only chair in front of the desk and sat down. Lupin shrugged with a vague smile.

"Well, tealeaves are more expensive," he said lightly, "you learn to do without certain luxuries in favour of obtaining other, more important things if you have only limited amounts of gold at your disposal."

Severus sipped the tea. It couldn't compare to the tealeaves he usually used but it was acceptable. "Those things being?" he asked, looking at the werewolf over the rim of his teacup.

Lupin smiled slightly still, but his brow creased a little. "Food," he said simply and suddenly Severus felt cold. He stared into his tea. That was something he had never experienced himself. The tolls it took to be a werewolf ...

He knew he shouldn't have asked Lupin about it. He had known the answer. But what did it matter anyway? "But doing without tea altogether is –"

"Is impossible," Lupin finished his sentence and laughed a little. "I could never do without my five o'clock tea, it makes my throat less sore." He chuckled his husky chuckle and Severus felt his spine tingling, still staring into his tea in which Lupin was reflected, slightly blurred. "Well, it doesn't really make that much of a difference …" Lupin added, running a hand through his hair and taking a sip of tea himself. The Potion was still standing smoking beside Lupin's hand.

"Doesn't matter," muttered Severus to himself, taking another gulp of his tea as he let his eyes wander around the office, over the shelves full of books, magazines and papers, registering some untidiness as his gaze fastened on a cage in the corner behind Lupin's desk. There was a Redcap in there, sulking, it seemed, and shooting angry glances at Lupin's back.

"What did you say?" asked Lupin, and as Severus's eyes found his face again, his amber eyes were considering him quite closely.

"Nothing," said Severus, and nodded at the Redcap. "Do you always bring Dark creatures to your classes or are you planning on opening a Dark creature zoo?"

Lupin looked round at the cage and smiled. "I think it's important that they see the real thing whenever possible, not just a picture in a book," he said, scratching his cheek. "It is essential to know how these fellows behave and what they really look like. Though this little chap gave me some trouble when he first arrived. He doesn't like it here." The Redcap emphasised this point by kicking the wires of the cage and snarling angrily at Lupin, who chuckled apologetically. "Don't worry, I'll make it up to you. Drop you at Culloden, you'll love it there."

The Redcap gave him a look as though sizing him up, then seemed a little more satisfied at the prospect of living in a place of horrible bloodshed. Severus shook his head at the expression on Lupin's face as he considered the Redcap: it was bordering on endearment, almost as though he were looking at a puppy. He seemed to have grown fond of the creature while sharing his office with it. Severus wondered if there would be any room left to move around in the office by the end of the school year. At least the werewolf didn't need a cage to bring himself to class. Severus smirked.

"I see no moon charts in your office, Lupin," he said as Lupin handed the Redcap a biscuit which it devoured greedily. "Are you hiding them in your rooms?"

"What?" asked Lupin, slightly bewildered as he turned his attention back to Severus, after having given the creature his cup of tea. "Oh, no, no, I don't need charts. I usually have one at home, but I have a Lunascope to make completely sure."

"You possess a Lunascope?" asked Severus, surprised that he could afford one.

"Well, can you imagine anyone who is in more urgent need of one than me?" asked Lupin in amusement. "My father gave it to me when I moved out, he didn't need it anymore with me gone."

"I see …" said Severus, as Lupin turned to the Potion to finally drink it, and found that it did not annoy him today that he had to spend a longer time in Lupin's presence. He wondered if he could bear this fact and thought that it was perhaps easier if he simply accepted it. He could still dislike Lupin, even when sitting in his office, having tea with him. Though at the moment, the only thing he disliked about the werewolf was, indeed, that he had once been a boy, weak and silent. It was hard to believe that that boy had become this man.

Severus watched Lupin drink with trembling hands, his eyes closed, his nose wrinkled, and when he set the goblet down to have a break, his eyes flitted in the direction of the sugar bowl. "Disgusting," he muttered in resignation, glancing at Severus, who shook his head.

"No sugar," said Severus and was amused to see Lupin eying him with some defiant misgivings, "I told you, it makes the Potion useless. I'm not making it up, though you are right to suspect it. The last few doses would have been in vain. But please, it is your decision, give in to temptation …"

"No, of course not," said Lupin, unsmiling now, and drained the goblet with a violent shudder.

Severus looked into his tired, ill face and could not help asking. "So you feel the full moon even now?" he inquired, curious if it was just the moon or really the nervousness that made the werewolf so shaky, for they had ascertained that it was not the Potion.

"Oh, yes, I do," said Lupin, nodding as he pushed the goblet over the table towards Severus. "I feel its attempts to take over my body, and it is wearing me out. My body is preparing for the transformation, though I was never quite sure if the nervousness and the feeling ill is down to the wolf or to my own fear of it. The result is the same, I think. After the full moon I feel better than before the full moon, despite the exhaustion. The power of the moon weakens quickly. The Potion really helps, though. Usually I feel the wolf more strongly in my mind." He smiled again, but gave in to a frown almost at once. "I'm nervous …" he confessed unnecessarily, averting his eyes and focusing them on Severus's now empty teacup.

Severus hesitated, his eyes wandering over Lupin's pale face. He didn't feel obliged to tell Lupin that everything would go well and actually he didn't even know that it would, but … "Everything will go well," his mouth formed the words before his brain had decided to say them. The werewolf looked up, surprised. Severus got to his feet, having created the urge to leave inside himself by uttering that reassurance. Lupin still looked taken aback as Severus picked up the goblet. "Or do you doubt my skill? I thought I had told you not to offend me," Severus added with a daring look on his face.

"Of course I don't," said Lupin with an incredulously relieved smile, "you are right, I should not worry. But it is not your skill that I doubt, it is that I don't know what it will be like. How will it feel to be sane inside the wolf's body? How will the different body feel? Will I be able to move around? Will I think like I do now? Will I be fully human or a tame beast? Will it be a relief to be freed from the fear that I might bite, to wake without injuries from my own teeth and claws? Will I feel the ongoing pain of the transformation? Because I always feel it in the morning, back in my own body. I am quite frightened of having to bear it twice."

Severus found it intriguing that Lupin told him all these private, intimate things, unabashed and frank. It was almost as though he thought that there was a connection between them, created by their conversation on the stone steps and maybe by this odd arrangement that had made them Potioneer and patient, indeed. Even though Severus had never wanted to be a Healer. He was unsure whether he ought to feel awkward or uncomfortable with Lupin's confiding in him. Nobody ever really talked to him like Lupin just had and it felt weirdly satisfying to be trusted like this, even if it was Lupin. That strange feeling was back … and there was a warm sensation in his chest that he did not know the source of. And suddenly, quite involuntarily, he felt connected to Lupin, too. And he didn't think that he wanted that.

"It is … very painful?" asked Severus, and when their eyes met he knew that Lupin had seen through him again.

"It is pure agony," said Lupin and he was not smiling. Severus nodded, letting his eyes drift away from Lupin's mild face. He felt strange now. He wished he had not asked, had not listened. Lupin got up and walked to the door, opening it for Severus as though he sensed that Severus would rather leave now. Would really rather not be here.

Severus stared at Lupin. He couldn't imagine what it felt like to transform like Lupin would that night and he was glad he couldn't. But when his eyes came to rest on the werewolf's hand on the doorknob, and he saw one of the many scars that must be scattered over the rest of Lupin's body as well, he met his eyes again. "I am sure that it will be worth it, I certainly hope that all the time I wasted on that Potion and supervising you was not in vain," he said mockingly and was satisfied when Lupin's face brightened a bit.

"Thank you, Severus," said Lupin and Severus registered that he had said it rather often lately. And Severus thought that he would never grow tired of hearing it.

"I shall check up on you tomorrow morning," he said and surprised himself with the wish to do so.

"If it is not too much trouble," said Lupin and sounded grateful, but for the first time Severus found something like uncomfortable awkwardness in his eyes. Perhaps it was an especially vulnerable situation, the morning after the full moon. Perhaps he did not want to be seen like that, or be helped when he was weak. Perhaps it was his pride, or his dignity. But then he suddenly seemed to appreciate it. "It might be nice if somebody came to look after me. It has been a long time since my father last did that … or Madam Pomfrey. She offered but … I am not a boy anymore, I would not like her to come. With you it is different. I remember how it was when there were still people who cared for me."

"I shall not treat you like a child," said Severus warningly, wondering what Lupin imagined him to do. Hold his hand? He did not like Lupin to imagine that he cared about him or his well-being. "I shall come to see if you are still alive, that is all."

"That is all I would expect," smiled Lupin, leaning against the doorframe, "I would not ask for more. But you don't have to, if it is too much to ask."

"I offered, I wouldn't have if I didn't feel up to it," muttered Severus, feeling uncertain now. But despite his doubts, Lupin seemed to be looking forward to it now. Which only strengthened Severus's uncertainty. He didn't want their connection to strengthen, it was too complicated, too close, too dangerous. It was bad enough that Albus was close to him. It was hard already to keep McGonagall at a distance. But he would not back out now. That would be too undignified. "Expect me sometime after breakfast. Dumbledore made you my responsibility, I shall not neglect it."

Without waiting for a reply, Severus made his way back to the dungeons. The door closed and something clattered, followed by Lupin's voice groaning. Apparently he had knocked over his own chair this time. Severus smirked a little. When he arrived in his laboratory he put the empty cauldron back into the cupboard after a quick cleaning spell. Over a fire on the worktable, another potion was already simmering, an Invigorating Draught, just in case it was needed in the morning.

That night Severus couldn't sleep. He told himself that it was because he feared Lupin would break out of his rooms and eat someone, which was, of course, complete nonsense. The silvery light of the full moon fell onto his face and he raised his hand, examining the glow around it, puzzled by the power of the light, immune to the power it had on Lupin. In reality he thought of Lupin and wondered if the werewolf could finally see the full moon with the amber eyes of the human, through the windows of his bedroom.


	7. Lesson Seven: Amour Propre

Title: **Fortune's Might**

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: So this chapter marks a pivotal moment in Remus and Severus's relationship. I left a lot of this chapter as it was, while also changing almost everything, if that makes any sense :D. Please enjoy. WTFHP, thank you for your review, I'm glad you enjoy the story, and sorry for making you wait, but I just think slow development the only way for this pic to work ;).

* * *

 **Lesson Seven: Amour Propre**

It was very early in the morning when the first rays of the sun fell through the half-closed curtains of Severus's bedroom windows, causing Severus to groan bad-temperedly and turn over, pulling the blanket over his head. He had got some hours of sleep in the end, but instead of refreshing him they had increased the fatigue and made him rather grumpy indeed. Severus reached under his pillow, fumbling for his wand, and casting a quick spell to close the curtains, shutting out the bright light of the morning. Then he opened his eyes to the semi-darkness and squinted around the room.

His first conscious thought was the question if Lupin was already up. Telling himself that he was merely curious as to the effect of the Wolfsbane Potion, he slipped out of bed, stretched, and padded into the bathroom to take a shower. He would certainly not run upstairs at once to make sure that everything was all right. Lupin had only just turned back into a human and would need rest, would not want anyone to intrude. A few weeks ago that would have been a perfect reason to go and disturb him, but now … Maybe Lupin had broken out of his rooms and was going to be sacked. _A weak attempt at covering up your weakness, Snape._ It was harder to be malicious somehow, since Lupin had told him the details of his transformation. Once again Severus wished he had not listened, had not had tea with him, had not stayed on the stone steps with him, for that had started it. What it was, Severus had not figured out yet.

It was strange to suddenly be swarmed by these new feelings for the man whom he had hated so passionately upon his arrival at Hogwarts. That hatred felt rather out of place now, beside all the new emotions that Severus could not give a name yet, did not want to give a name at all. Lupin had not impressed him with his charming kindness or his modest nonchalance, what had confused Severus's loathing had been Lupin's frank understanding, the disclosure of private experiences, the steadfast resoluteness. But he was not ready to admit that the original hatred had lost its basis, was actually only a relic now that was about to fossilise. He did not want it to go away. It was the last barrier between him and Lupin, who had found out so many delicate things about him already. He had been incautious with the werewolf. Had not noticed his subtle way of sneaking into his mind. In future, he'd be prepared.

After having brushed his teeth and put on his black robes, Severus entered his laboratory and sniffed the Invigorating Draught, putting out the fire under the cauldron. He poured the potion into five phials, storing four of them away in a cupboard and putting one in his pocket. He left his rooms and walked slowly upstairs to breakfast. Trying to decide whether he should see Lupin before or after his first lesson, Severus sat down at the High Table. Perhaps he should reserve some time for that visit, just in case. Between breakfast and his Gryffindor and Ravenclaw fifth-years he would have mere minutes. Then he grumbled to himself about this thought. Why would he dedicate more time to Lupin than that? But then he did decide to visit him after his first lesson, having a free period and enough time to spare.

Albus's eyes twinkled into his direction when he sat down and poured himself some coffee, but Severus tried to ignore him, staring down at his plate and buttering a slice of toast. Unfortunately most of the teachers had not arrived at breakfast yet, which made it easier for the Headmaster to talk to him openly, hands folded on the table.

"So, Severus?" he asked lightly. "How did it go?"

Severus gave a half shrug. "I haven't been up to see him yet," he said, not looking at Albus. "But since there were no violent deaths of students or teachers last night – unfortunately in some cases – I am confident that everything went well." He stabbed his fried egg with his fork and watched the yolk running over the plate as Albus gave him a scolding but curious look.

"Why haven't you checked up on him yet?" he asked. "I would have thought that you'd want to make sure the Potion worked and that there were no complications."

Severus swallowed. "I thought … he would need sleep. I believed it would be better to let him rest for a while longer." The twinkle in Albus's eyes was almost audible now. He laid a hand on Severus's shoulder and got up.

"That was thoughtful of you Severus. I'm sure Remus will appreciate it. And by the way: the password to his rooms is ' _A_ _gnus_ '," he said quietly and left the Hall. Severus scowled at his retreating back and stabbed his egg again rather forcefully. In the pocket of his robes his hand closed around the phial of potion, which was warm against his cold skin.

After he had dismissed the first class of the day, Severus made his way to Lupin's office and, taking a deep breath, knocked three times. No answer was to be heard from within, so he turned the knob and pushed open the door to find the room empty but for the Redcap, snoring in its cage. Suddenly Severus felt as if he had something else to do and couldn't remember why he was in the werewolf's office at all, so he turned to leave, but before he had stepped over the threshold he stopped, reaching inside his robes and touching the phial beside his wand. He rolled his eyes. A Distracting Charm obviously, to keep students away before, after, and – in some cases of curfew breaking – during the full moon. Lupin, of course, understood those rule breakers, having been one himself, and wanted to make absolutely sure that none of them walked in on him.

Severus raised his wand and muttered a spell to dismantle the Distracting Charm, closing the door behind himself. He then turned to the left, facing a wall which was completely void of pictures, shelves, and cupboards and said, " _Agnus_." The grey stone turned into brown wood and a door appeared before Severus, swinging open to admit him. He hesitated for a few moments, sticking his head into the sitting room that had been revealed to him, and called Lupin's name. As Lupin didn't answer Severus entered, pulling the door shut, and walked over to the windows, opening the curtains to let in the sun. Apparently Lupin had not been up yet.

Severus cast a searching look round the room and noticed that it was rather different from his own, smaller but also brighter, with more windows along the slightly curved wall that looked out over the grounds. It was warmer up here and Severus thought that it was quite evident, in style and furniture, that they were in one of the towers and not in the dungeons. It was less gothic and definitely cosier. In the short time that Lupin had been living here, he had filled the bookcases of his sitting room with many books, books which were less shabby than his clothes, looking as though the werewolf took very good care of them. Over the fireplace he had pinned a Gryffindor flag and the threadbare old armchair in front of it seemed to be his own, other than the rest of the furniture, which was provided by the castle. Severus found the werewolf's Lunascope on a windowsill, a rather expensive model. But apart from that, Severus couldn't make out any personal accessories such as the photos of friends and family that he had expected to cover the walls.

Severus, wand still in hand, walked over to the door that led to the bedroom. It was ajar and he could see a sliver of dim light that illuminated the dusty air in the room. When he pushed the door open wide enough to be able to slip through it, he saw the werewolf's brown-grey hair sticking out from under the blanket, which was wrapped tightly round Lupin's body. With a flick of his wand the curtains and windows flew open and Severus heard the werewolf groan like he himself had groaned earlier that morning. He stepped closer to the bed, always keeping a safety distance, to see if Lupin had woken yet, but it seemed as though he had no intention of doing so, turning away from the light.

"Lupin, it is almost noon," Severus said loudly. "Wake up!" But the other merely pulled the blanket further up over his head, burying his face in the mattress. Severus sighed and after a moment's hesitation, due to his reluctance to touch the werewolf for the first time, he reached out and shook Lupin's very warm shoulder, which proved to be far more effective. Lupin rolled over onto his back, and running his hands through his disheveled hair, he forced himself to open his eyes, squinting up at Severus with a vague smile.

"G'morn', Sev'rus," he croaked and Severus drew in a sharp breath at the sight of him.

"You look terrible," he said and he wasn't exaggerating. Lupin had the darkest of rings under his eyes and his skin was white as snow, he looked as if he hadn't slept in a month, as if he had been fatally injured. But since he chuckled at Severus's statement, he seemed to be fine, as fine as the circumstances permitted, anyway. The werewolf's laugh was disrupted by a coughing fit and he sat up, rubbing his chest, pain clearly written on his face. "How are you feeling? Any complications?" Severus asked and crossed his arms over his chest.

Lupin shook his head and cleared his throat. "The Potion worked wonderfully. I feel much better than I usually do, thank you," he said, his voice even hoarser than Severus knew it. "Just tired and … my body hurts from the transformation, it has to go through quite a lot of tearing and bending, after all, but that'll cease sooner or later." He fell back onto his pillow and sighed, his breath rattling and shallow. "It was a singular feeling to be in the body of the wolf with my own mind. I suppose that is how an Animagus must feel." Then he glanced nervously at Severus as if he'd said too much. "I saw the full moon. It was … strange. As if I had finally conquered it. Thanks to you."

Severus raised an eyebrow, though he felt a surge of odd pride run through him. "Not at all," he said coolly and put his wand into his pocket, pulling out the potion, removing the stopper. He held the phial out to the werewolf, who reached for it, brushing his fingers against Severus's, making him shiver with their second touch ever. But he didn't take it. Severus looked at him, confused by the way his hand hovered in mid-air as if he were petrified, brows knitted, his amber eyes staring at Severus's left wrist. And then Severus noticed it. His sleeve had shifted when he had stretched out his arm, and had revealed the lower quarter of something that he never let anyone see. He pushed the phial into the werewolf's hand, spilling a few drops of the potion when he whipped away his arm, yanking down his sleeve with his right hand.

His eyes flitted to Lupin's face. The werewolf looked taken aback and licked the spilt drops of potion off his hand. His face gained colour immediately and he drank the rest from the phial, looking up at Severus, unconcealed curiosity in his eyes. Severus glowered down at him and folded his arms over his chest again, pressing his left wrist to his ribcage. Lupin averted his eyes, setting the phial down on the nightstand. "Thanks," he smiled, but did not quite manage to act as if he hadn't seen anything.

Severus just stood there, unmoving, wanting to leave at once but rooted to the spot. How would Lupin react? What would he say? Or would he pretend that it hadn't happened? Would he talk about it to anybody? The singing of the birds and the buzzing of voices from the grounds were the only sounds to be heard. The silence that stretched between them was uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. And it was Lupin who broke it.

"Forgive me," he said quietly, his amber eyes searching Severus's. "Are you ashamed of it? The Dark Mark?" He would not pretend not to have seen. It seemed he could not help himself, though he must know that Severus did not want to talk about it, did not want anyone to know and was close to drawing his wand and Obliviating Lupin. Severus turned his head so he could look out of the window, focusing his eyes on a cloud that was drifting past. He barely moved his lips when he answered.

"It is … expected of me to be ashamed."

He felt Lupin's eyes on him and didn't dare look at him, didn't want to see the disgust he was sure he would find in the werewolf's amber eyes. "But are you, really?" he heard him say, and suddenly he felt angry.

"Well, I suppose so," he snapped. "It's none of your business anyway!" He whirled round and wanted to pick up the phial and throw it at Lupin, but at the sight of Lupin's eyes he froze. Lupin didn't look disgusted or hateful, he merely gazed at Severus with placid eyes and folded hands.

"I'm sorry, Severus … but we all have pasts of our own, some darker than others," he said with a small smile. "I think what matters is who you are now. Only that is worth being proud or ashamed of."

Severus stared at him. Usually people didn't react like that when they saw the Dark Lord's Mark on his arm. "I chose to become a Death Eater," he said, pressing his right hand to his left forearm on the spot where the Dark Mark was branded into his skin. "I wanted to be one of the Dark Lord's followers!" It had been a long time since he had talked about it like this, since he had admitted it to somebody instead of denying it. Once again Lupin lured things out of his mouth that he had never wanted to utter. Once again he made Severus feel vulnerable. Exposed.

Lupin's brow creased. "Yes, you did," he replied calmly. "And then you realised that you'd been wrong and you changed sides … I figure you were the one who became Albus's spy under great risk to your life, weren't you? That is far more glorious than anything I have ever done, being on the right side from the very start."

Severus looked at his hand clutching his arm. He wasn't sure what Lupin imagined his reasons to have been. They had not been entirely egoistic but he didn't share the werewolf's opinion. It hadn't been glorious. It had been pathetic and desperate and he had been disgusted with himself. He was still disgusted. Severus looked into Lupin's eyes and felt that strangely familiar feeling welling up inside him again, the one whose name he still didn't remember. The werewolf was the first person who had ever failed to blame him, he seemed to simply ignore the fact that Severus had … had done terrible things, unforgivable things for the Dark Lord. The anger ebbed away and was replaced by something else: it was a painfully good feeling to hear those words from him.

"Why would you say something like that?" he asked, intrigued once again by how different Lupin was from everybody else Severus had ever met. "You don't know why I changed sides. Why I became Dumbledore's spy. Not to speak of the crimes I committed before that. Until a minute ago you didn't even know that I was a Death Eater! You – you are a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake! You should be appalled instead of indifferent."

Lupin cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrows. "I say it," the werewolf replied, "because I think that it is true. You deserve the second chance because you have decided to use it well. And I think that it was necessary you heard it. Somebody ought to tell you."

Severus stared at him. Could it be? Was Remus Lupin actually trying to erase the shame and the self-loathing inside of Severus, which had been implanted there by all the people who had looked at him with disgust and hatred? It seemed so. And Lupin appeared to be quite serious about it, seemed as though it was important to him to make Severus feel better, not about what he had done as a Death Eater, but about himself and what he had made of his life. As though that redeemed Severus in his eyes. Indeed, as though he wanted to redeem Severus so he could let go of his Dark past and live in the Light with him. And, surprisingly enough, Severus felt a weight becoming lighter that he had not even been aware of carrying. Lupin's head was bent and on his face there was a look of deep pain, the mask discarded, fully this time. Severus frowned and the strange feeling was growing stronger. The werewolf's hands were clutching at the sheets so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

"I understand, Severus, better than you can possibly imagine," Lupin muttered and Severus needed a few seconds for the words to sink in before the anger returned.

"You don't know what you're talking about! How can you even think of comparing our situations?" he snapped and Lupin frowned at him. "You didn't ask a werewolf to bite you! You were a child and it wasn't your fault. I was a grown man and knew what I was doing when I let the Dark Lord Mark me!"

Lupin looked surprised. "So you think there's no reason to mistrust me?" he asked calmly but Severus thought he had heard a tiny trace of amazement in the question.

"I think there is no reason to mistrust a man who always fought for a good cause and was never involved in any Dark business, simply because he happens to be a werewolf," he snarled and turned away. In the corner of his eye, he saw that Lupin now showed his amazement openly on his face – obviously that answer had had an impact on him. Severus suspected that he felt the same painful pleasure that Severus had felt a few minutes ago. Apparently the werewolf wanted to ask him more on that topic, but he seemed to restrain himself under great effort. Severus did not miss that this was the first time he had truly had a visible effect on Lupin. It was strangely gratifying.

"And I … I think there's no reason to mistrust a man who risked his life as a spy for Dumbledore and gained his trust, saving many lives, simply because he made a mistake in the past," said Lupin then, causing Severus to give him a sceptical look. "Don't misunderstand me. I don't think that choosing to be a Death Eater is a small mistake, but in my humble opinion, your choice to betray Lord Voldemort says much more about who you are. And that's why our situations are quite similar."

"Indeed? How so?" Severus growled and folded his arms over his chest again, glowering down at the werewolf for using _that name_ so casually.

"They mistrust us," replied Lupin quietly, and when Severus gave him a bewildered look, he elaborated, "Those who know our darkest secrets. And it is not important why, what matters is that they don't accept us as their equals, they don't respect us, and no matter how hard we try, we will never be accepted. They turn their backs on us in disgust or hatred and it doesn't matter if they do it because of their prejudice against werewolves, or because they condemn you for choosing the wrong side when you were young and furious. What matters is that it hurts. Maybe we don't pay attention to the pain anymore, maybe we have grown used to it, or maybe we defy it, but it is there, deep down, eating at us," his voice broke and he swallowed, gathering all the strength he seemed to have left, to continue. Severus's eyes never left him and he listened carefully, feeling that this was important. That it _meant_ something. And inside him, deep down, the pain confirmed it.

"So we hide what they would hate if they knew of it, constantly afraid of our secret being discovered, we can never be ourselves, we can never be close to anybody, lest they find out and desert us – the most painful of rejections. And deep down we loathe ourselves, much more than we loathe those who do this to us. We are ashamed of and disgusted by the marks on our bodies. Just like you would never show the Dark Mark to anyone, I would never show them the scars …"

This insight into Lupin's emotions, his life, his suffering, was extraordinarily captivating. But at the same time, Severus did not want to become too immersed, for he sensed that he felt the same, that they were indeed alike, that there was a connection that was not irrational. He did not know if he wanted to be so aware of that. Severus looked at his arm and it was as if he could see through the fabric of his black robes, he could see it vividly before his eyes, burned into the white skin of his forearm, skull and snake, red and ugly. Was it really comparable to Lupin's werewolf-bite scar?

"But we needn't feel ashamed. Because we have overcome the prejudice, even though it would have been less difficult to give in to the temptation posed by the easier way. Although no one acknowledges it. Apart from Dumbledore perhaps," Lupin paused and his amber eyes were full of emotion, making Severus lower his own. Lupin was trying to strengthen the wispy connection between them, and Severus knew it was unwise to let it happen. But what could he do? Lupin's words sounded familiar, as though they were thoughts that Severus had always had but never dared to utter. And maybe that was indeed so. Maybe Lupin was right as he said, "Not the differences of our situations are important, they aren't what makes me understand, Severus, but the similarities."

Severus closed his eyes and pictured it in his mind, the Dark Mark. It was a stigma that shut him out of society, making it impossible for him to be respected and accepted as who he really was. And no matter how hard he tried to get rid of it, it would never vanish, a constant magical reminder of his pitch-black past. He didn't belong and he didn't feel welcome anywhere. It was, he had to admit to himself, something he had in common with the werewolf. No matter where they were, even in the biggest of crowds, they were alone, isolated. And it would be like that forever. It was then that he realised that they were indeed equals.

And then he nodded.

Suddenly there was something there between them that resisted all denial. Severus felt as if, for the first time in his life, someone understood how he felt and found words to express it for him. That it had to be the werewolf was pure irony. The pathetic rest of Severus's hatred for Lupin shrank rapidly, no matter how hard he tried to inflate it again, it slipped away and out of sight, and he was lost, unknowing what to feel or do without it. It made him so angry to be helpless like this, to have been robbed of this old, well-known hatred.

He snatched the phial from the nightstand, deciding to leave as fast as possible. Maybe if he ran fast enough he could break the connection between them. He wouldn't let the werewolf any further into his head, not to speak of his soul! He couldn't. He knew how those things usually ended: in pain and disappointment. So he turned on his heel and was about to storm out, when Lupin caught his arm.

"Please, stay," his mild voice said. "Just a little longer."

Severus looked at the door and back at the werewolf, unmoving, undecided. He met the werewolf's amber eyes and again he felt his anger ebb away, although he tried to seize it and cling to it to hold on to a familiar, safe feeling, the soothing effect of the werewolf's placid gaze was far too strong. The connection was solid, it seemed, no longer wispy. And it was tempting. He wasn't ready to give in yet but he couldn't deny that he wanted to. The strange feeling returned to his stomach, accompanied by a slight shiver when the werewolf let go of him, deliberately brushing his fingers against Severus's. And although Lupin still was the best friend of Severus's childhood tormentors, he wasn't one of them and Severus decided that that was a good enough reason to allow himself to stop blaming him and being angry with him just for now, and to obey him. Lupin had asked him to stay. And he did. Sitting down on the far end of Lupin's bed.

"Thank you," said Lupin with a warm smile, but Severus merely made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. Lupin cocked his head to the side again and drew breath. Severus was braced for some kind of awkward conversation about feelings and woes, but Lupin surprised him. "Did you know that last night was a Blue Moon?" he asked conversationally, and a bit educationally.

"Was it now?" asked Severus, trying to sound less relieved than disinterested. Being who he was, he ended up sounding mocking, which was just as well.

"Oh yes," smiled Lupin, "two full moons in one month. Doesn't cause me more trouble than usual, but it only happens once every few years … Funny that it should happen now. The first full moon you tend to me is special in more than one way. Almost poetic, really."

Severus looked searchingly at him but Lupin's smile had not changed in warmth, only the corners of his mouth were twitching like they sometimes would. Severus supposed it to be suppressed amusement, but didn't feel laughed at. It confused him. And he felt somewhat awkward, after all, though he couldn't put his finger on the reason. He cleared his throat and gave Lupin his haughtiest look.

"If you are only going to babble Gryffindor nonsense," he said silkily, "I might reconsider my decision to stay." As soon as the words had left his mouth he feared retaliation, or that dreaded conversation about feeling and woes … but again Lupin surprised him

"Forgive me," chuckled the werewolf, "if you prefer silence, that is fine as well. Your company's enough to make me feel better. Need to rest my voice anyway, to be able to teach again soon."

"Fine, then rest it already," muttered Severus and made Lupin chuckle once more, quite huskily.

"All right, understood," he replied, but didn't sound offended in the slightest.

They sat in silence then, comfortably this time. Severus was watching Lupin quietly, his eyes tracing the werewolf's every outline, every tiny little bit of pale, scarred skin that was revealed by the old Muggle shirt he was wearing to bed. The strange, warm feeling growing stronger. Lupin was leaning back against the headboard of his bed, entirely relaxed, a soft, peaceful smile on his lips, eyes closed in exhaustion. No words were needed. It was one of those rare moments, when it was enough to just _be_. The more time they spent in each other's presence, that much had become clear over the past days, the less animosity Severus felt and the more the strange connection between them unfolded unstoppably. And worst of all, it was tempting, pleasant in an unwanted, threatening way. Severus wondered what the werewolf was feeling at that very moment. Did he … enjoy Severus's company? How could he? How could anyone? But then again, Lupin wasn't just anyone, was he?

Once again, Severus felt as though he had given Lupin more information than was strictly sensible, though today he had not said much at all. He knew that Lupin had seen through him again. Severus would never get used to feeling so vulnerable, but at the same time he felt lighter. Lupin had actually helped Severus to think a little better of himself, if only for now, if only because Lupin had said that there was no need for his self-loathing – and maybe Severus had done the same for Lupin without meaning to. What had happened here today, between the two of them, was rare, indeed. Perhaps it was even special. Lupin's company was oddly soothing, so soothing, indeed, that Severus felt all the emotions that usually filled him on a normal school day return to his body almost violently when the time of his departure approached. It was unsettling and he was painfully aware that it would bother him for a long time, would occupy his mind and unnerve him. He cursed Albus for doing this to him. For confronting him with this man, who got to Severus like no other.

When Severus left to make it to the dungeons in time for his next lesson he thought he heard Lupin mutter to himself in something of a slurred singsong, "Once in a Blue Moon … we may find the right one … We'd certainly deserve it."

And Severus thought that might have been Dumbledore's insolent thinking, too.


	8. Lesson Eight: Old Wounds

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: I've not much time today, but I wanted to say thank you to all my new readers and followers. I hope you enjoy the new chapter.

* * *

 **Lesson Eight: Old Wounds**

Severus didn't see Lupin again until lunch on the following day. He looked worn still, but much better than after the full moon. Severus wanted to avoid eye contact but at the same time he just couldn't help glancing down the table now and then, and when Lupin noticed his eyes on him he looked up and smiled, inclining his head in a gesture of greeting. Severus stared at him for a few moments, unable to take his eyes off the werewolf, before he managed to pull them away, scowling at his chicken.

He felt strange. Ever since he had left Lupin's office yesterday, confusion and uncertainty had been following him everywhere. And he couldn't say that he was very good at coping with this sort of inner indecision and vulnerable chaos that was all Lupin's fault. On the one hand, he held a grudge against the werewolf for never helping him at school, for being friends with Black and Potter, and for almost having eaten him on purpose in their fifth year. On the other hand … Severus had no words for everything on the other hand. It was so confusing, so intense and so profound, that it almost scared him. Though he'd never admit to it. Lupin seemed to be able to sneak past his defences and make it feel … something like pleasant … or at least less painful, definitely relieving. There was something happening between them. Severus wasn't sure he wanted it to happen. But what _was_ it? Severus didn't dare give it a name to classify it. It was too great for classification. There was a connection. But did Lupin feel about it like Severus did? Did he feel vulnerable? If so, he didn't let it show. He seemed quite normal. He seemed his nonchalant, self-confident self. But wasn't that at least partly a mask, too? Hadn't Lupin revealed yesterday what he truly felt? Hadn't he admitted that he felt like Severus about some things at least?

Severus glanced down the table again and started when he saw that Lupin had been anticipating it, his amber eyes twinkling golden in the sunlight that fell into the Great Hall from the enchanted ceiling, his smile still in place. It sent a shiver down Severus's spine and he turned quickly away. The shivers were different now. Deeper somehow. Right to the bone. Suddenly he felt warm and cursed the werewolf silently. He couldn't let him continue to sneak past his defensive walls. The thought disquieted him. As did the fact that a tiny little voice inside him _did_ want to let Lupin in. He didn't have names for his feelings for the werewolf, he only knew that hatred wasn't among them anymore. Those feelings were painful and pleasant at the same time, and he didn't know whether he enjoyed or loathed them. Whether he wanted to risk letting them unfold or to recoil before the danger. He heard Lupin's soft, husky chuckle from the other side of the table and felt thrilled by the sensation it incited in him. A tingling that travelled through his whole body. He felt that his face was flushed and tried to fight it down but couldn't. His body betrayed him and it was all he could do not to leave the Hall to be alone with it.

He finished his lunch quickly and left as fast as possible without making the impression of running away. When he was clear of the Hall, he started running, straight to the cold dungeons, hoping that the chill would cool him down. In his rooms, he collapsed onto his sofa and let his head fall back with an exasperated sigh. Slowly but gradually, and with surreptitious cleverness, Lupin had crawled under Severus's skin to make himself at home. Lupin had been right, he was not the boy Severus had hated. And it was impossible to deny now that this was attraction, the shivering, the captivation, the appreciation of Lupin's looks and the way he moved and talked and looked past the surface unlike most dunderheads Severus knew, the admiration of the way Lupin stood his ground, and the fascination with his personality. He was ashamed of himself. He had let the werewolf get to him. The werewolf of all people. He stared at the ceiling, eyes half closed, and remembered the peaceful smile he had seen on Lupin's lips yesterday. He couldn't help it. Now that the feeling was there, all he could do was ignore it. Try to forget it.

Severus was careful not to cultivate such feelings, it was too much of a risk. Betrayal, lies, disappointment, and of course regret. Those were the things that hid behind such emotions, they were the feelings one had to expect when indulging in foolish sentimentalities. When connecting with another human being and letting them come too close. And he had sworn to himself, long ago, that he'd never again be so stupid to let anyone get close enough to him to be in the position to make him experience those feelings. He was tired of those feelings. He could not bear them. Close interpersonal relationships meant trouble and suffering, so he had decided to have none. Albus didn't count.

And since he was no naïve Gryffindor, searching for romance, sitting on a white steed in a shining armour, galloping through a – to cut a long story short: he was a Slytherin. And Slytherins did not indulge in sentimental feelings, least of all with Gryffindors. Letting it happen with this Gryffindor in particular was absolutely unthinkable. Severus rubbed his eyes. It was hard to keep to this reasoning and hide behind his house when he was in Lupin's presence. Which meant that there was only one way of dealing with it. There could be no more private exchanges. He would have to stop giving Lupin opportunities to catch him alone and start a conversation.

Over the following days, Severus started avoiding and ignoring the werewolf again. Whenever he saw Lupin approaching him or heard his voice, he turned on his heel and took a detour to go out of his way. The only occasions when he couldn't do so were the meals in the Great Hall. He didn't look down the table anymore, didn't glance at Lupin, and tried not to strain his ears when he heard him talk, since he rarely heard him laugh anymore. Already after the first day of silence he sensed the werewolf's eyes on him during meals, and he felt an uncomfortable tingling where his eyes fixed him. And on the third day, he was quite sure of that, he had stopped hearing his chuckle. And, _Merlin_ , he missed it! It was so _annoying_! Most of the time, all Severus did was glare at his food, as if it were at fault for everything.

Of course Albus noticed that something was up, at the very last when Severus glared after Lupin one night, watching him leave the castle with McGonagall, apparently for a drink in the Three Broomsticks. She had invited him because she thought the stress and pressure of being a teacher was making him quiet and much less cheerful than he had used to be. Severus, of course, knew that it was his silence that had this effect on Lupin, and though it was satisfying that he could achieve such an effect at all, an effect his rudeness and snide remarks had never had, Severus did not like the temptation it posed to just go after them and join them in Hogsmeade. He never did anything like that. He did not usually look for company. Lupin's company was different, but he had decided not to seek it. Surely Lupin would forget him while connecting with McGonagall over some mulled mead. And that thought annoyed Severus despite everything.

Albus walked up behind Severus as Lupin closed the front doors behind him without noticing that Severus was watching. Albus's hand came to rest on Severus's shoulder and Severus turned, shrugging it off. He did not want to show Albus that he was feeling horridly ordinary now that he saw that Lupin was connecting with others, too, was probably listening to their tragic stories, too, because it was in his nature to take interest in them. Severus had believed that he was the only one Lupin felt closely connected to, he had said they were alike. Had he only said it to twist Severus round his finger? It hadn't felt like it. Severus's glare darkened.

"Is everything all right, Severus?" asked Albus and Severus snapped out of his thoughts. "You seem rather less sociable even than usual, lately."

"Get to the point, Headmaster," snarled Severus, glancing at the front doors. He should feel relieved that somebody was distracting Lupin from him, but he didn't. He felt indignant.

"Well … did anything happen between you and Remus?" said Albus tentatively, a frown on his face.

Severus stared at him. What in Salazar's name was he suggesting? "Of course not!" he snapped and crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to flush.

Albus surveyed him over his half-moon spectacles. "So you didn't have another row?" he asked quietly. "I thought you did, because whenever you are near or your name is mentioned he seems a little subdued."

Severus was still staring. Oh, that was what he'd been suggesting. Why on earth had he suspected something else? He shook his head more to himself than at Albus. "There was nothing."

"Well, but something must have happened," said Albus shrewdly. "Since the full moon you've been distancing yourself from him, even though, as he told me, you were very kind to him."

"I only did my job," said Severus coldly, feeling odd when being referred to as kind, "in-between full moons I want him to leave me alone."

"I don't know if he is aware of that," replied Albus and he was smiling slightly. "He seems to be under the impression that you have overcome your differences."

"Then he is wrong," retorted Severus, averting his eyes and glancing again at the front doors.

"So something _has_ happened … would you like to talk about it?" Albus asked with a twinkle in his blue eyes. Severus glared at him.

"There is nothing I want to talk about," he snarled but whatever he said, it only seemed to strengthen Albus's suspicions.

"Perhaps … yes, perhaps something _hasn't_ happened, maybe something _is happening_ ," he said shrewdly and laid his hand on Severus's shoulder again. "Whatever it is, Severus, don't ignore it, don't fight it, engage in it." Severus huffed and Albus scrutinised him for a moment. Then he nodded to himself and smiled more broadly, leaving Severus standing alone in the deserted Entrance Hall.

Severus didn't move for a while, leaning against the stone wall, staring into nothingness. He sighed. Ignoring the werewolf appeared to strengthen the new feelings, it certainly created the wish to be invited to tea again, for which he felt pathetic and foolish. But perhaps, he thought, only perhaps, Albus was right. Maybe confrontation was the only thing that could put an end to his troubles. But how should he confront the werewolf? One look from those golden eyes and he'd be defenceless again. He wandered through the corridors, thinking about whether or not it would be wise to talk to Lupin again, and if yes, about what? Maybe he should just reestablish his hostility, but that hadn't worked before, either, so what was he to do?

And then, after a couple of hours of walking aimlessly through the castle, Severus found himself in the corridor that contained Lupin's classroom, from which, despite the late hour, light was falling on the stone floor Severus was standing on, motionless. He had not meant to end up here, and even if he had, he would not have expected Lupin to be here, in the dead of the night, after having had a few drinks with McGonagall. But there was definitely movement within: rustling sounds told Severus that the werewolf must be looking through papers or homework, and a splashing told of water in a tank and a creature within. Severus didn't know if this was the right time for a confrontation. He should perhaps prepare for it first. Then he felt like a coward and cursed Lupin for making him feel it. Edging slowly closer to the door, he heard Lupin's voice, low and husky, talking to somebody.

"It's all right, I know you don't like it in there," he was saying and Severus figured he was talking to some _thing_ , "I'll give you something to eat before I turn in."

Severus peered into the classroom, trying not to attract Lupin's attention. In a large tank, on a mossy stone in the middle, surrounded by water, sat a Kappa, stretching its limbs and making annoyed sounds as it shot Lupin poisonous looks. The werewolf was lounging in a chair behind the desk, his feet on the desktop, reading a roll of parchment in his hand by the flickering candlelight, his brows knitted and his lips pursed, a quill poised in his fingers, touched now and then to the parchment to make a scratching note. Despite himself, Severus wondered where the Red Cap had got to, if it had already been brought to Culloden. On the blackboard there was a chalk picture of the creature sitting beside it, labeled and headlined "The Kappa", and Lupin had stacked a few books on his desk whose titles Severus could not make out from this distance. Lupin seemed to be preparing his next lesson.

Severus drummed his fingers against his leg, trying to decide whether to enter or leave, when Lupin cleared his throat. "Good evening, Severus," he said, without looking up, and Severus froze. "Won't you come in?" A small smile conquered his lips and Severus cursed him again.

But since there was no backing out now without looking like a fool, Severus slowly entered the room, closed the door behind himself, and watched Lupin lift his feet off the desk and set quill and parchment aside, still not looking at Severus as he got up and opened the top of the Kappa's tank to pour a red liquid from a flask into a bowl in the corner, from which the Kappa drank greedily. Blood most probably. Closing the tank again, Lupin turned round and sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"You are here at this hour?" asked Severus despite himself, and looked for signs of alcohol-induced symptoms in Lupin. "I would have thought after your meeting with McGonagall you would feel too tired to prepare classes."

"We weren't long," said Lupin distractedly, "and I don't drink more than one goblet of wine, usually. I felt wide awake and wanted to put that energy to some use …" he trailed off, looking quite sober, indeed, and sighed again. "Why have you been avoiding me?" he asked then, looking at the ceiling, straight to the point. Severus suddenly felt as though it was Lupin who had come to confront him and not the other way around. It was unpleasant even though Lupin's voice was quite calm. It was like Albus's calm scolding. And Severus could not possibly tell Lupin the truth now, could he?

"The full moon was over, it was unnecessary to associate with you any further," he said coldly and Lupin looked at him. Their eyes met and a second later Severus knew that he'd been seen through again. But Lupin didn't say anything, surprisingly, he just sat down on the edge of his desk and looked calmly at him. "I told you that I had no desire to waste time in your company."

"And yet you are here," said Lupin, raising his eyebrows, as he put his hands into his pockets. Severus glared at him but to no effect. "Did you notice my Kappa?" Lupin asked then, quite unexpectedly, and indicated the creature. "Quite a nice specimen. Was delivered the other day. I'm sure the children will like him."

"Yes, yes. Very nice," said Severus, slightly taken aback by the change of subject. He did not know what else to say, though, so he waited for Lupin to say something. This confrontation wasn't as he had imagined it would be. Perhaps he should have prepared, after all. He did not know what he wanted to achieve. Lupin was the one who seemed to have a plan, who had been waiting for Severus to come. He was wearing a shrewd look, anyway.

"I've been meaning to ask you … It is a Muggle saying, you know?" Lupin said and Severus was taken by surprise again. "'Good medicine tastes bitter'. A pureblood wizard wouldn't say anything like that." Severus stared at him in confusion. Where had that come from? And what did he want to imply? "So, Severus … who was it? Your mother or your father? The Muggle, I mean."

Severus stiffened. Nobody knew about his being a half-blood. Nobody but Dumbledore and McGonagall. He had always kept that fact to himself. Not only was he held in higher esteem by purebloods like Lucius Malfoy and the other Death Eaters if they didn't know that he was half-blood, he also had a very private reason to conceal that fact. "That's none of your business," he snarled and Lupin raised an eyebrow.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," said the werewolf quietly. "I'm half-blood, too."

"I am not ashamed," snapped Severus, crossing his arms over his chest, angry with Lupin for bringing that up now.

"Why don't you tell me, then?"

Severus glared at him. He didn't have the right to ask questions like this, it was private. Severus wouldn't tell him about his parents, it was too painful. He wanted to shut out all emotion, if possible, and he wouldn't tell Lupin anything that would give him the impression that he was his confidant now. He wanted to show him the exact opposite, after all.

"Why would I share my private matters with you?" he asked coolly. "I am not aware of any reason."

"So, that's it?" Lupin asked, knitting his brows again. "We got along well … there was a connection ... I thought something had changed between us."

At that Severus stiffened again. So he felt it, too. The change in their … it couldn't really be called a relationship, could it? He chose to avoid that topic for now. The change between them. "Did you actually expect us to become friends?" he asked incredulously. "I have no interest in a pet werewolf, Lupin, thank you very much." He was rather proud of himself for having managed to get his message across. Then he noticed how pathetic that feeling was.

Lupin's face darkened like Severus had never seen it before. "Don't try to hurt me, Severus, it won't work," he said in a strangely calm voice that sent an unpleasant chill through Severus's body. "If you want to try nonetheless I'm sure you can do better than this. What you do to Neville proves it. And while we're at it, I think you should ask yourself if that is the right way to treat your students."

"Do you, now?" asked Severus, taking a step closer. "And you think you of all people have the right to tell me what to do?"

"I believe I have the right to tell you that it is not a great achievement to be the thing one of your students fears most," said Lupin, still quite calmly. "Teachers mustn't be bullies."

"If the boy cannot do anything right, he doesn't deserve better –" retorted Severus but Lupin was rising to his feet almost agitatedly now and it startled Severus to see him like that.

"He is a child," said Lupin, his voice still quiet, "he needs encouragement and praise to learn. You are only making things worse. You don't help him at all."

"I have no wish to help him," said Severus incredulously, balling his fists and feeling angry that they were having this discussion when all he had wanted was to make clear to the werewolf that he did not want him near him. He was angry that he was being told off. "Those who do not possess the gift are not worthy of my attention."

There was a tiny flash of anger in Lupin's eyes now and Severus was thrilled to see it, feeling the desire to make Lupin reveal everything that lay behind those placid eyes and the stubbornly calm mask. What else was there to see? But he should not want to find out. He was already fascinated enough with the werewolf, there was already too much that was attractive about him, too much that captivated Severus. It was no good to uncover more. But he wanted to see Lupin's resoluteness again. He wanted to see him stand his ground.

"Then why don't you leave them alone?" asked the werewolf, his voice giving away some of his anger now. Intriguing. "You know what you are doing to them. They are defenceless children, none of them deserves to be bullied by you. None of them did anything to you that would justify such treatment."

"Who is this about now, Lupin?" asked Severus smoothly, as his anger was replaced by curiosity. "Potter, or his friends? Or have you declared yourself the champion of bullied children across the world?"

There was a few moments' silence during which the tension grew to an unbearable level and it felt to Severus like several years before the werewolf finally spoke again, "Funny how those who have been victims of bullying become bullies themselves when they grow up. Isn't that one of the least understandable vicious circles? Is it the power that you didn't have as a boy that you now relish? Or is it revenge on all Gryffindors?"

The blood in Severus's veins froze and cold fury welled up inside him. "Well, you're the one who could've prevented it, aren't you?" he growled. Lupin's eyes widened in shock and Severus felt an odd pleasure fight its way through the anger, but it wasn't strong enough to survive for long. "If you hadn't just looked away when your bloody friends bullied me, if you had stopped them, maybe those poor children would not need to suffer today! So, ultimately, it is your fault, is it not?" Not that he believed that. Not entirely. McGonagall often said that he just wasn't a nice person, other than Lupin for instance. But perhaps he would have turned out a bit nicer if …

Lupin averted his eyes. Obviously he wasn't eager on this kind of confrontation. "I know it was wrong, I know I should've done something," he said softly and paled in the flickering candlelight. The Kappa made a growling noise behind him. "But I …"

"But what?" Severus snarled. "Did you lose your backbone when you came hurrying to my help?"

"I was scared," said Lupin and sounded almost defeated, yet defiant, which startled Severus again. "I was afraid they would not want to be my friends anymore if I stopped them. For God's sake, Severus, they were the only people who never cared that I was … what I was. They let me be their friend, treated me as though I was normal. I thought I'd never find friends like them again, and truth be told, I never did …"

He balled his hands into fists and Severus saw him trembling with agitation. He knew what the werewolf had feared back then. Loneliness. The loneliness that he had experienced after the Potters' and Pettigrew's deaths and Black's conviction. The loneliness that Severus knew as well. The explanation was that of a werewolf who had so wanted to be a normal boy, not risking for anything the make-believe normality he was given by his friends. But it wasn't enough for Severus. He had suffered while Lupin had been happy. Lupin had had no right to exchange Severus's peace for his own.

"I was selfish," the werewolf continued heavily, "and I felt guilty every time they bullied you. I take full responsibility for what happened to you, because I know I could have at least lessened your suffering. I didn't want any of that to happen to you and I am sorry, I regret it. But I'm a different person now. Please, Severus, why can't you forgive me even now when I am asking you to."

"You didn't want it, did you?" Severus growled, unwaveringly unforgiving. "You didn't want any of that to happen to me? What about that night in fifth year? What about your little plan to kill me?"

Lupin shook his head. "I wasn't in on that," he whispered, lips hardly moving, his eyes filled with terror. All those emotions in just one night.

"Don't lie to me!" spat Severus and Lupin flinched. It was almost thrilling that Lupin revealed such an abundance of new faces tonight.

"I'm not lying," said Lupin and his voice was now shaking quite openly, "I didn't know anything about it, nor did James. It was Sirius's idea!"

"You wanted to kill me that night, for having tried to find out your secret!" retorted Severus and Lupin shook his head. Severus took a step forward. "You lured me to that Shack so I would pay the price for my curiosity."

"I didn't, Severus, I swear, I would never have allowed it!" said Lupin urgently and his voice grew more distressed. "Please listen to me, I was just as shocked as you when I was told –"

"You are no better than Black!" snapped Severus and Lupin fell silent, looking as though Severus had slapped him. "Why not throw _Snivellus_ to the werewolf? It isn't as though anybody would care! That was your thinking wasn't it? And now you are trying to wind out of your responsibility like Potter did when he 'saved' me heroically! And I was the one Dumbledore treated like a petty criminal, not you, not Potter."

"I wasn't in on it!" Lupin said loudly and the Kappa behind him screeched. "Why aren't you listening to me? He wanted to use me to get rid of you, it was _his_ idea! James and I had nothing to do with it, I would never have allowed it, nor would James, whatever you may think of him. Biting someone always was my greatest fear and my friends knew, I would never have thought that Sirius would do something like that. I never wanted you to get hurt – to die by my hand!"

Lupin's troubled eyes were entreating him, were searching his face. The amber was gold now. The werewolf was desperate to clear his name, to make sure Severus got it right, to make him understand what his friend's evil prank would have meant to him, had it succeeded. And now there was no mask hiding all this from Severus.

And suddenly Severus realised that he believed him.

"I never hated you," Lupin whispered and it unfroze Severus's blood, evoking that strange, nameless feeling again. And this time he didn't want to let it go. He felt his arm move of its own accord, to reach out and touch the werewolf, but stopped it before the werewolf had noticed. "You can't imagine how I felt when I learned of Sirius's terrible prank. I wouldn't have been able to live with it if anything had happened to you."

"Great friend, Black, wasn't he?" Severus asked flatly and Lupin's eyes darkened, his brow creased, and he looked profoundly disappointed.

"It seems so," he muttered. Then he sighed heavily. "Why are you doing this to me, Severus?" Severus couldn't answer, he just stood there, motionless. He wouldn't tell him the truth but he couldn't think of a good enough lie, so he kept silent. Lupin waited impatiently and when the silence stretched he said something that startled Severus, "What are you scared of?"

"I'm not scared," Severus said quietly and was sure that Lupin _knew_ something. He read him like an open book and it was surprisingly relieving that Severus didn't need to say anything, that Lupin just _knew_. At that very moment, though, Severus didn't want Lupin to know what he felt.

"I know you don't think much of being close to anyone," Lupin said, surprising Severus once again. "I just thought … I thought there was something between us ... Something we share, that only we understand."

Severus knew it was true, but he didn't want to hear it. There were quite a few things they shared, not least of all loneliness, pain, and secrets. And Severus couldn't forget the moment they had shared after the Blue Moon. He could still feel it, the pleasant silence, could still see the peaceful smile on the werewolf's face. And suddenly he felt peaceful, too, wishing back that moment. But impossible. Absolutely impossible. He had made up his mind about this. He did not want, was unable to risk letting this connection grow.

"I have no interest in sharing anything with anyone," he muttered in an attempt to make Lupin give up and forget what they shared.

"But that is a lie," said Lupin and it surprised Severus that there was a trace of suppressed anger in his hoarse voice. "I know it isn't true. Maybe I went too far the other day. Is that why you are feeling uneasy?"

Severus glared at him. "I'm not uneasy!" he snapped and Lupin raised an eyebrow.

"You _are_ scared," said the werewolf, and Severus gave him a scandalised look for voicing Severus's own thoughts so candidly, when Severus wanted to keep them a secret. "It is there in your eyes, I can see it quite clearly."

Severus averted his eyes in furious frustration. He _was_ scared. And now he had admitted to it. He didn't want to risk exposing his soul to someone who might rip it apart, to someone who could hurt him, use his knowledge of Severus to destroy him. And yet, he knew that, actually, he did want it. He wished he could let bygones be bygones, forget all his fears and open himself to the werewolf, but he couldn't. Even though there was no hatred left now. And it was no mystery why it had disappeared. But there was a veil of fear hanging over the things Severus craved, disfiguring them.

"Perhaps I've made a mistake," said Lupin when Severus made no answer, but then he sighed again and shook his head. "I only thought – you certainly sent all the signs – that you liked spending time with me." And Severus thought that there was something else he wanted to say, it was in his eyes, another emotion. But who'd look at Severus like that. The way he looked at Lupin.

"I don't want you close to me!" Severus snarled. He wouldn't be able to bear it if Lupin found out about his feelings and rejected them. Who would want _Snivellus_ to feel for one like that? Who would believe that he felt anything at all, anyway?

"Then tell me to stay away from you, and I swear I will," the werewolf said, his voice calm but tense. Severus hesitated. It was so easy. Just one sentence, four words, but his mouth wouldn't form them. And again Lupin saw right through him, Severus's eyes were like windows to him. "But you don't want me to go away, either, right?" he said, stepping closer to Severus, his voice mild again. "You would've left already if you did. You know that, though we are very different, we are also very alike – we understand each other. And you don't want to lose that, either."

Severus looked at the floor. Those were his thoughts exactly. They both knew pain, of every possible kind. But that didn't make it any easier to trust Lupin. He trusted him not to laugh, but he didn't trust him not to hurt him, on purpose or not. Nobody could be trusted in that respect. Why would anybody want to hand out weapons that enabled others to hurt them? Was the pleasure resulting from relationships truly worth the pain? Thinking back, Severus did not remember, felt only the pain now, only pale memories of the pleasure. The pain, though, was still vivid.

"I am scared, too, believe me. But when I'm with you, it is as if I had finally found someone who understands me, who feels what I feel. And I think it's the same for you," Lupin continued and Severus raised his eyes again, meeting the werewolf's golden ones and letting them look through him deliberately for the first time. Though Lupin was standing a few feet away, Severus could feel the warmth radiating from him. "You needn't even say anything. And if you do, you tell me so much with only a few words. Without needing to find the right words."

"I'm an open book to you, am I not?" Severus muttered, a little hurt in his pride, but somehow he felt relieved again. He felt that it meant something. The werewolf chuckled huskily and Severus felt as if gravitation had ceased to exist, his stomach fuzzy and his head so very light. Merlin, he had missed his chuckle! How annoying. The Kappa hit the water's surface with its fists.

"Maybe that would be saying a bit much …" Lupin trailed off. "To be listened to, to talk to someone who understands, is healing. When I'm with you, I don't feel ashamed. I am sure that it means something. It is something very rare."

Severus fixed his eyes on Lupin's lips and listened to those words that described his own feelings better than he could ever have done himself. Severus could never have put those things, of which he had subconsciously been aware, into as true a shape as Lupin just had. There was the connection between them, quite visible, quite audible, almost to be grasped with bare hands. It was indeed quite rare, and Severus did not want it to go away. It was –

"Something precious," the werewolf said softly, voicing Severus's thoughts. It had happened before. On the steps before the castle. They had both enjoyed the scent of the rain. Severus knew they were so very alike, and yet they were like day and night. "We are what Life has made of us. And now Life has decided that we should meet again. Why not make the best of it, Severus, why not use this opportunity?"

Severus didn't know what to say. They shared something that he couldn't share with anyone else: they were both broken, so broken, indeed, that they needed to protect what was left of them with impenetrable masks. It was indeed a healing experience to find in Lupin a related soul. And when the werewolf held out his hand to him with the first really genuine smile on his face, a smile that touched his eyes, shining with that nameless emotion, and the same words on his lips, "Stay a while," a request not an order, he felt chaos break loose inside of himself.

He was more frightened than ever before, frightened of his feelings and their consequences. How could it be that, in not much more than a month, the loathing he had felt when Lupin had first set foot in the staffroom had disappeared treacherously to be replaced by something that Severus did not dare acknowledge, was too afraid to explore? Something he had thought lost for good.

He wasn't ready to say it, but he enjoyed the way the werewolf contradicted him and stood up to him, how he encouraged him and understood him and smiled at him, mysterious and unwavering, enjoying his company, seeking and prolonging it, instead of despising it like everybody else. Severus enjoyed his every expression, his every mood and he wanted to see them all, feel them all directed at him. He enjoyed to be liked by Lupin, more than he cared to acknowledge. And he enjoyed the effect he finally had on the werewolf.

He wanted to let Lupin find out every secret he was hiding from the world, wanted him to find the words for his thoughts and feelings, wanted him to continue to treat him with warmth and respect, and he wanted to be healed by him and heal him in turn. He wanted to break down his walls and let Lupin in to his soul.

But he could not give in to that desire. Instead he turned on his heel and ran from the room like a coward, ran away from his feelings and the need to act on them. He ran away like the Slytherin he was, but inside of him, he knew but wasn't brave enough to let Lupin know, the prominent emotion was Gryffindor golden. Like Lupin's eyes.


	9. Lesson Nine: Hostages To Fortune

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait, I've been on a hiking vacation. It's great how many new followers I've gained :). I hope it gave you time to catch up ... I realise there are many long chapters in this story. I'm all the happier that you take the time to read it. And I'm glad to know that you thought it worth the wait, WTFHP ;).

* * *

 **Lesson Nine: Hostages To Fortune**

Severus felt his mood dropping to a new low as he glowered down into a cauldron, looming over its owner during another Potions class. After having run from Lupin's classroom yesterday, he hadn't dared eat in the Great Hall or leave the dungeons for any errand at all. He flooed to the places he needed to go to. He didn't want to risk meeting Lupin. He wasn't entirely sure why he didn't want to meet him. Was it embarrassment, because he had run away? Or was it fear, because it had been hard not to stay last time and it would be even harder next time? Severus supposed it was a bit of both.

"Er … Professor?" said a hesitant voice from behind the cauldron and Severus directed his glare at its source, a frightened Hufflepuff second-year. "C-can I start brewing now?"

Severus looked back at the cauldron and then glanced round the classroom. He had completely forgotten where he was, surrounded by Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws who were brewing a Sleeping Draught. He turned and made his way to his desk before the blackboard. When he sat down, he noticed that he hadn't given the boy a snarky retort at all. He was so preoccupied with Lupin that he was growing careless. He heaved a sigh and fixed his eyes on his hands, folded in his lap. It was maddening. He could face the Dark Lord as a spy and lie to him, but he couldn't face Lupin and tell him to leave him alone. Because he knew the werewolf was right: actually, he didn't want Lupin to leave him alone. He was scared of himself, scared he might lose control one day and just burst out with the truth. He did not know what on earth had got into him. Why did the one person who could affect him like this turn up at Hogwarts? Severus suspected Albus to be behind this, suspected some deeper plan behind Lupin's appointment. He shook his head at himself. How ridiculous. Albus knew him too well. He probably thought it enjoyable to see Severus struggling with Lupin. He would not even think of the possibility that Severus might want more from the werewolf. That he wished he could touch him properly. Be touched by him.

Severus shivered. He wondered how it would feel. How _Lupin_ would feel. Warm. Yes, definitely warm. Severus could barely remember how it felt to have arms embracing him, to have someone so close to him that he could really _feel_ them. He hadn't longed for it in the past. But he did long for Lupin. Long for his touch. A brush of his fingers, a hand on his arm. Anything would be fine. If he would only touch him. And maybe, if they were so close, he would finally be able to recognise that mysterious, sweet scent Lupin had about him. It was almost a plan now, almost a likely thing to happen.

Noticing that his eyes were unfocused, Severus snapped out of his pathetic daydream. He should not even think about thinking about such possibilities. He should not even acknowledge them as possibilities. Looking forward to it, wondering how it would be, and feeling that it might indeed happen was neither helpful nor appropriate in his current situation. Or any situation, really. Severus had stopped trying to deny his feelings for the werewolf, but that did not mean that he could indulge in thoughts and dreams that revolved around acting on them. But as it seemed, he had not the slightest command over his defiant subconscious. Usually he could control his thoughts and feelings, at least in situations that he was used. It was disturbing that he did now, he could slap himself for it. And Lupin, too. After all, it was all his fault! A good hex between the eyes would serve him right.

Why couldn't Severus hate the werewolf in peace? Why did Lupin have to be such a tempting mystery? And why, for Merlin's sake, did he have to offer Severus … _something_? Couldn't he just hate Severus like every silly Gryffindor would? Everything would be so much easier. But at the same time, Severus felt longingly curious about Lupin's _something_ … perhaps it was, well, _the_ something. He couldn't even think what he wanted it to be. His mind forbade it. The rational part at least. The irrational part pleaded for the werewolf's presence. It really was maddening. It was maddening that now of all times he wanted his loneliness to end. To be ended by Lupin.

He cursed himself. Something like this shouldn't have happened to him. It just shouldn't have happened. He had thought that he protected himself well enough against such feelings but he had been terribly mistaken. He had just never met anyone who would have tempted him. Now he knew that ignoring those feelings just didn't work: the more time he spent trying not to think about the werewolf, the stronger his desire grew. Confrontation was even more dangerous, as he'd experienced yesterday. He had ended up in another vulnerable situation, almost jumping headfirst into the kind of relationship he was so cautious of. And since yesterday he had even been worrying if he had hurt the werewolf's feelings by taking flight. He groaned. Frustration again. It was simply unbearable.

After having bullied a few students, making one of them cry and giving another detention without achieving the required effect of improving his mood, he dismissed the class and retired to his rooms, sitting down on the sofa with a glass of wine in his hand, staring into the empty fireplace. He didn't hate the werewolf anymore, hadn't even got a good reason left for it. He believed him that he hadn't been in on the prank in their fifth year, and everything else had been reduced to that dull ache, no more flaming anger. The fear was still gnawing at his insides, but ever since the last night when he had lain awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling, as if he could see through the many floors that lay between his bedroom and Lupin's, there had been a new feeling inside him, the feeling that he was missing something, that, actually, the risk might be worth the gain. And hadn't he seen that look in those golden eyes, that look of more than plain affection? Ah, Lupin had already got far too close to him. Like a virus that infected one surreptitiously only to spread throughout one's body rapidly and powerfully, no remedy for it but simple waiting. But no, Lupin was no virus. He would not go away after a while to leave Severus immune to other viruses, he would not even kill Severus, he would stay and get worse.

In his imagination he repeated the moment when Lupin had asked him to stay, when he had asked him to use the opportunity. What would have happened if Severus had agreed? What would Lupin have wanted to do, where would he have wanted to go from there? It was agonising not to know. He needed to know. And at the same time, he was too afraid to find out. Would the werewolf even want to hold out his hand again? Would he still claim that there was a connection between them? Something precious? Would he listen to Severus? And what could Severus tell him to show him that he was serious? Did he need to say anything at all? And was he really serious? Did he even want to act on these thoughts? What would it mean if he did? He knew what it could mean open himself emotionally to somebody, what it had meant last time. But did it always end in disaster? Maybe he had only been unlucky all this time and now was his chance. But this vulnerability was something that he could not quite deal with.

He took a sip of wine and closed his eyes. He was still confused. Actually he was completely clueless. He wasn't used to this. He felt as if his brain was temporarily out of order, due to overload. He felt helpless. But he needed to make a decision. He couldn't hide in the dungeons forever. Not that he'd have a problem with it, but Albus would drag him out one day and force him to sort out his differences with Lupin, and Severus wanted to spare himself the humiliation. After all, he'd already had enough of that. Self-inflicted.

The question was: did he want to give in to fear or to his emotions. In any case it meant giving in. He didn't like to yield to anything. But he only had those two options, so he had to weigh them against each other. Fear was secure. No risk of being hurt or used or rejected, or of losing his reputation. But then again he would never know how it would have been with the werewolf. And what it would have been. So what was he to do, considering that this was probably the last chance of this kind he would be presented with without actively looking for it …

Severus knew what attracted him to the other, he had seen it all before running from it. The werewolf was indeed tempting. Severus was quite sure he had never met anyone in his whole life who had been so absolutely tempting to him. In this mysterious way. Making Severus wish to unravel him and relish his success when it was done, jealously concealing from all others what he had found and look at it for hours on end, more fascinated still, he was sure. Severus was sure because, now that he had got to know it, he wanted more of Lupin's understanding. He wanted more fights that he couldn't win, more of Lupin's voice uttering Severus's thoughts. He wanted those eyes to look through him and _know_. He wanted him to … he wanted _him_.

He opened his eyes. There it was. The answer. It was all he needed to know to make a decision right now. Nothing else mattered at the moment. He drained his wine and got up, determined. He always insisted that he was no coward. He would prove it now. He needed to. Otherwise he would forever regret it – if he didn't seize the chance that was presented to him now, he would forever believe that it had been a mistake or that it could have been. It was worth the risk, at least he hoped so. Perhaps it was wise to just see what became of this connection between them instead of pushing it away without giving it a chance to develop this way or that.

And he had to see him now, otherwise he might change his mind again. When Severus left the dungeons, he thought about what to say to the werewolf, how to tell him that he wanted to accept his offer, after all. He felt his hands trembling and balled them into fists. The way up to Lupin's office was not even half as long as it usually was, or so it seemed to Severus. He was surprised when he arrived in the corridor it was situated in, without having found any words to say.

Approaching the open door of Lupin's office as silently as he could – and being a spy, that was quite a bit more silent than anyone in this castle could even wish to be – Severus strained his ears to find out if the werewolf was alone. Hearing nothing but what he supposed to be the Kappa's grunting, Severus dared look round the doorframe, creeping along the wall like somebody planning mischief. But that was Lupin's field of expertise, not his. One could fill volumes with the mischief Lupin had got up to while being a student at Hogwarts. If he was still a mischief maker now, apart from what he had done to Severus over the past weeks, was hard to tell. He was too kind and well-mannered to actually seem mischievous, but Severus thought it was still there in his amber eyes when he smiled at him, quite unyielding. As though provoking Severus was his idea of mature mischief. This side of him was quite more interesting nowadays than Severus would have found it in a boy. It was an intriguing contrast to the image Lupin had created for himself. Then again, some students were referring to him as "cool".

As Severus peered into the office, he found Lupin standing with his back to the door, poring over some papers on his desk, bent over them with his hands on the desktop. In the corner, the Kappa was bathing in its tank, looking slightly less unhappy than it had yesterday. Severus wondered how anyone could hope to work in peace and quiet with a Dark creature in the office, but Lupin hardly seemed to notice the grunting and splashing – he probably liked the company, Severus thought, company that did not judge him. How silly. But quite understandable. Lupin almost kept those creatures like pets, treating them well, talking to them, possibly even bonding with them. Severus wondered if he might have lost the natural caution one should use when handling those Dark creatures, and the awareness that they were not cuddly things.

Severus snapped out of his thoughts when Lupin moved suddenly, straightening up and sighing as he raised a hand to rub the back of his neck, where Severus's intent gaze was directed. The Kappa, Severus noticed as Lupin turned his head slightly to look at it, was fixing Severus with its eyes, as though trying to decide whether he could lure him to the tank and drink his blood without Lupin noticing. Severus did not move, tried not to breathe, but Lupin had already sensed him, had probably been aware of his presence those past minutes.

"Noticed him, too, have you?" Lupin asked the Kappa, which made a grunting noise in response, eyes never leaving Severus's. "You cannot lure him in, he's too clever for that. I would know, I have tried. You want to save your energy. Next meal tonight."

Severus was taken aback by Lupin's behaviour. He would have thought the werewolf would turn round and confront Severus, like he had done yesterday. But he did not address Severus at all, just the Kappa, as though he wanted to leave it up to Severus to decide whether he wanted to come in and talk or not. Lupin wanted to let Severus make the first move, without pressure. Severus shook his head at himself for being such a wimp, took a deep breath, and walked slowly into the office. There was one thing he could say that would tell Lupin what he wanted, without the actual words. He would make Lupin his confidant, after all.

"It was my father," said Severus quietly, and Lupin turned his head to give him a questioning look over his shoulder – not surprised but expectant. "My father was a Muggle. Not even a Muggle-born wizard. Just a Muggle. Making me quite plainly half-blood, which I am sure you must find positively hypocritical, if not hilarious, considering my background."

Lupin turned round, sitting down on the desk, and raised his eyebrows at him, but he did not smile. Cocking his head to one side, he scrutinised Severus with great curiosity. There was a short silence while Severus waited for a verbal reaction and Lupin's golden eyes searched him. When they had found what they'd been looking for Lupin smiled a little, but it was a sad smile. "As you know, I'm half-blood, too, nothing wrong with that," he said mildly, running a hand through his hair to set free his sweet scent. "Actually I find that it makes you more likable. Did you feel ashamed, is that why you did not want to tell me?"

Severus gave Lupin a look for finding him likable at all, but it was answered with a broader smile and he sighed, hesitating slightly. "No … no, it was not shame … at least not of that kind," he muttered then and narrowed his eyes at Lupin, scrutinising him to find out if he could tell Lupin even more. Lupin, against all odds, looked like a man who could keep the secrets that were entrusted to him. Averting his eyes so he would not have to look into Lupin's when he spoke, Severus took a deep breath. "He was … not exactly a model father. Neglectful, violent, and unloving. Forever yelling at my mother and me. But no matter how understandingly you are going to look at me, Lupin, I shall not pour out my heart to you or give you any details about my sad childhood, so spare me!"

Lupin chuckled at that, quite huskily, and Severus realised how long it had been since he had heard it as he shivered, quite unashamed. But Lupin stopped himself with an apologetic look, smiling sadly again. "I'm sorry, Severus, I didn't know …" he said then, getting up from the desk.

Shaking his head, Severus let his eyes roam Lupin's face. "I neither need nor want your pity," he said softly, "it lies in the past."

Lupin's smile turned very knowing now, annoyingly so. "No," he said quietly, "no, it is right here, right now. It will stay with you forever. Our parents shape us like no one else. But I don't pity you. You have become who you are because of your father's treatment, you must decide for yourself if that is something to pity you for."

Quite an unusual thing to say. Severus could tell that Lupin didn't think that he should regret having become who he was. He could tell by the look in Lupin's eyes. It was more than plain affection. There was a swooping sensation in Severus's stomach and he swallowed, clearing his throat. "Well, I … about yesterday," he said, trying to sound casual and failing dismally. He just couldn't say that he was sorry or that it had been a mistake. He couldn't get out the words. He tried to paraphrase. "Yesterday I didn't mean to –"

"That's all right," interrupted Lupin, jumping to Severus's dignity's aid as though he had heard it screaming in pain, "I forgive you. Cup of tea?" He indicated the chair before his desk and summoned his teakettle. Severus stepped closer, into the range of Lupin's scent, at the distance where it was faintest, and he saw Lupin's greying hair up close, which was shiny and looked as though it would be soft to the touch. He had never noticed anything like that about anyone else. And there was another thing he noticed, a small scar on Lupin's jaw, white and old, attracting his gaze. Lupin's warmth reached him where he stood but when he sat down, the werewolf smiled and took it with him, pulling it and his scent away from Severus.

Once Severus had been served his tea, Lupin took a deep breath and smiled sadly again, looking down into his own cup, which he turned between the palms of his hands. "My father wasn't perfect himself," said Lupin, his hoarse voice very quiet. "Oh, he loved me, no doubt about that, he was always there for me," he said quickly, looking up at Severus as though he had accused his father of being a horrible person. "But it is undeniable that he was at fault for my becoming a werewolf."

"How do you mean?" asked Severus, curious now, because despite having known so long that Lupin was a werewolf, he had never, indeed, found out about how he had become one. It didn't seem to be anything Lupin would tell just anyone.

Lupin stirred a lump of sugar from a little bowl into his tea. It was quite clearly written on his face that he was having great difficulty talking about this matter. Had perhaps not talked about it for years. "My father used to loathe werewolves, like most magical folk do, and one day he was careless enough to offend Fenrir Greyback. You know Greyback, I presume?" Severus nodded curtly, quite sure that he knew how that story would go on. "Well, Greyback wanted to pay him back for it and when he learned that my father had a small son – me – he positioned himself in front of our house at the full moon, forced his way through the window of my bedroom, and bit me. He wanted to drag me off, of course, like he does all the children he bites. But my father prevented it, he had heard the disturbance, my screams. He came to my aid – literally snatched me out of death's jaws – but it was already too late. I daresay he learnt his lesson. He was so ashamed that he only told me when I had come of age and left Hogwarts."

Severus was silent for a few moments, watching Lupin turning his cup between his hands, his amber eyes directed at Severus's lips as though expecting them to say something cruel. But Severus would not be cruel now, he did not know if there was anything else that Lupin could have said that would have suffocated Severus's spite so effectively. Lupin's beloved father, solely at fault for his only son's life of suffering and isolation. It was quite worthy a story to be told in exchange for Severus's few words on his own father. Clearing his throat, Severus felt the urge to say something to break the heavy silence.

"He did not want you to hate him," he said softly, unsure whether it was true or if it had merely been common cowardice. "Could he have prevented it?"

Lupin smiled mirthlessly. "He could have chosen not to insult Greyback," he said simply. "He could have held his tongue, thought of the dangers it posed to his family to be rude to somebody he knew to be dangerous. He should have known better than to treat another human being like vermin only because he was a werewolf. No matter who or what you are, you deserve respect. My father realised this too late."

Now Severus didn't know what to say anymore. He felt that this topic was more intimate than he would have liked, judging by Lupin's tone and the way he looked at Severus. Lupin seemed relieved and satisfied that Severus had not tried to judge or abuse his father, whom, Severus understood, he held in very high esteem, despite his mistake of almost thirty years ago. Severus wondered if words of comfort were required now, knowing none, but understood that Lupin simply needed someone to tell his story to, someone who understood. His amber eyes looked straight into Severus's, tranquil and no longer sad. Severus held his gaze, trying to see his soul in Lupin's eyes like the werewolf did in his. He couldn't do it yet, though, didn't have the gift the werewolf had, would probably never acquire it. Maybe he didn't need to. It was intriguing that Lupin could see his thoughts and feelings even though Severus could conceal them even from Dumbledore and the Dark Lord. But he didn't hide much from Severus, either, at least not at this very moment. And Severus was good at recognising expressions, at least. A change of topic was in order.

"I take it you were not surprised that I came to see you?" Severus said and raised an eyebrow. The werewolf smiled.

"I wasn't," he said mildly, inclining his head. Severus glowered at him. Again he had been read, again Lupin had known what Severus would do before he had even known it himself. But somehow, it had a singular fascination to it, that gift of Lupin's. "I was sure you'd come, but not what you'd do. Would you hex me or talk to me? Well, needless to say that I'm happy it turned out like this." He chuckled and Severus shivered pleasantly, he almost welcomed it. "May I ask," Lupin said after having taken a sip of his tea, "why you came? What made you change your mind?"

Severus hesitated. He had hoped that Lupin would not address this matter. There was nothing about Severus's change of mind that he wanted to share with Lupin at the moment, nothing that he felt safe or confident enough to say. Averting his eyes, Severus stared at the Kappa, folding his arms over his chest as he cast around for something to say. "I have realised that I, too, find our … _connection_ … stimulating," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully as he felt Lupin's eyes searching his face. "Denying or ignoring it does not satisfy me. Doing without it seems undesirable. Against all odds I … appreciate it, and after some careful consideration, I have decided that I want to risk engaging in it. Even if it might mean ending up dying of an overdose of Gryffindor influence." He said "it" because he couldn't say "you". But for Lupin it seemed to be enough. He chuckled huskily and seemed happier at once. And Severus wondered if they expected the same from this connection, if they both hoped for the same outcome, or if Lupin's intention was, after all, different from his. Then he realised that he wasn't even sure what his own intention was.

"I can assure you that Gryffindorishness does not radiate from me in toxic doses," he said with a wink and his eyes were twinkling. Severus nodded his head slowly and felt embarrassed when he saw a new emotion in those golden eyes: joy. "I am glad that you have decided to acknowledge our connection. I want to 'engage' in it too."

Severus wasn't in the slightest surprised by the pleasure this incited in him. His body begged to touch Lupin. Begged to be touched. And wasn't satisfied. Yet. He decided that he had done all he could do today, so he set down his own empty teacup and got to his feet. "Thank you," he said quietly and waited for Lupin to walk to the door and open it.

Lupin rose, smiling that smile that touched his eyes and must be at fault for the crinkles round them. Slowly, with measured steps, Lupin approached the door and laid his hand on the knob, but did not turn it. He looked round at Severus again. "I'm relieved," he said softly, "I was worried that we might waste this chance. That you might not want to associate with … with a Dark creature." Lupin's voice sounded strange at the last words and Severus was bewildered for a moment, glancing at the Kappa, that was still eying him as though it thought he was looking rather tasty, indeed, until he realised that Lupin had meant himself. Severus had thought of him as a Dark creature, but only jokingly so. It was odd that Lupin seemed to be serious.

It made Severus wonder why Lupin had even wanted him to come, seeing as he must have been very hurt and offended by Severus's behaviour. He even referred to them as "we" now, which had quite an agreeable ring to it. And then it was on Severus's lips, a thought he had fostered for quite a while now, ever since Lupin had called himself a Dark creature that day after the full moon. "You, a Dark creature?" he asked a little harshly. "Who would ever refer to you like that?"

And as Lupin pulled the door open unconsciously, there was a startled look on his face, as though he was quite surprised that Severus had not confirmed that he was averse to talking to someone like him. Severus met his amber eyes, making sure that his remark had not been mistaken for sarcasm, and stepped over the threshold. He made to leave without another word but suddenly there was a tingling in his fingers, where Lupin's brushed them in a gesture of holding him back which had been stopped just a little too late.

Severus looked down at Lupin's hand, which was now hovering in mid-air one inch from his own. He could feel Lupin's smile before he even saw it. Lupin's lips formed a silent "thank you" and Severus inclined his head in half a nod, waiting for Lupin's averted eyes to show him the werewolf's emotions. He shifted a little to the side, making their fingers touch again as if by accident, warmth spreading up his arm. They had never been closer. Never had Severus smelled Lupin's scent so clearly, and yet he was too distracted to take in what it was. The werewolf looked up at him, that nameless feeling visible in his eyes.

"You do deserve second chances, you know," Lupin said and lowered his arm, stepping back into his office. "I hope we will repeat this?" Severus inclined his head again and turned to leave, Lupin's sweet scent retreating from his nose, frustratingly unrecognised, when he heard the door close. He touched his fingers where Lupin's had been and tried to remember the sensation.

Then he realised that, actually, this outcome had been inevitable ever since their conversation after the Blue Moon. Lupin had touched his soul that day, his well-protected, unreachable, sensitive soul, fragile like the china they had drunk from, offering up his own in return. The fortress Severus had built around his emotions had been snuck into and taken silently by the werewolf, its walls had crumbled under Severus's hands, were crumbling still, unstoppably. And he was grateful that they were, since they had left him as little way out as they had left the world to get in. It was a relief, though still dangerous. They were both made of chipped china, easy to break when handled too carelessly. But china could be mended, as could they.

 _Yes_ , he thought, _we shall repeat it_.


	10. Lesson Ten: Bel Esprit

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: So here I go again, trying to speak with Severus's poetic voice ... I tried to take most of the sappy parts and transorm them into something more authentic than the original version.

* * *

 **Lesson Ten: Bel Esprit**

Severus had hoped that his head would clear a little, once he had made the decision to stop pushing Lupin away. But he had been mistaken. His head was still buzzing. It wasn't as if he was still wondering if he had done the right thing, whether it had been right to give up the safety of isolation in favour of allowing a relationship to form – for he had admitted that that was the most accurate term to describe the connection between them. He did not doubt that it had been right to take a risk to receive from the werewolf what he had to give. Yet, Severus was troubled. He couldn't lay his finger on it, but something was still troubling him.

Perhaps it was the mere fact that something about Lupin had changed. It wasn't so much his behaviour, though he did seem even kinder to Severus when they came across each other, it was predominantly in his smile. It was not the polite, customary smile that everybody received. It was new, special. As though it was only for Severus. And Severus, having stopped avoiding Lupin, now saw a lot of that smile. At meals, in corridors and hallways, in staircases and the staffroom, Lupin would always give Severus that smile, somewhat sweet, like the scent that always lingered in his wake. Severus was so intrigued, he even caught himself taking detours, just so he would meet Lupin and receive that smile. He wished that there was not only the possibility of bottling fame, but also of capturing that sweet smile in a phial, so he could look at it whenever he felt like it. And he felt like it rather often. Which made him nervous, because Lupin's influence was growing gradually. But he did his best to conceal it when he encountered the werewolf. Admittedly, if he knew Lupin at all, the werewolf would see it anyway.

For five long days, Severus had not had any private meetings with Lupin. Severus blamed it on their workload, but he knew, deep within, that he simply couldn't ask Lupin to tea. He could not quite explain it, he wasn't usually a timid man. But over this matter he was constantly fussing. Lupin would have to take the next step, because Severus would not be able to overcome this invisible barrier that prevented him from approaching Lupin and asking for some private time together. Perhaps it was the mere possibility that Lupin might reject him. Or maybe Severus just didn't want to make Lupin think that he wanted to go out with him. It would be mortifying to see the look on Lupin's face when he found out that Severus was – he daren't even say it out loud – attracted to him. But it was undeniable. It was growing more evident by the day.

It was most annoying that he yearned for Lupin's presence in the evening, after a day of teaching and brewing, when he would usually feel tired. More and more often, Severus found his mind wandering into most unusual and unwanted directions when thinking about Lupin. He missed his husky chuckle when the silence in his rooms pressed in on him, and the depths of his eyes when he could not look into any eyes but his students' blank and pitiably shallow ones. Severus found that Lupin's eyes looked quite like freshly brewed cauldrons of Felix Felicis, swirling when emotion stirred them, like a potion when the ladle touched it. They were warm and promising. Like liquid luck. Whenever Severus caught his thoughts straying into such embarrassing directions, he stopped them forcefully. But most of the time they would warm his body before he even realised it. And the wish to be alone with Lupin was growing. He couldn't stand not knowing when it would be possible again.

The only times when Severus met Lupin were those casual every day occasions in the staffroom and the Great Hall. What surprised Severus was that the werewolf kept the required distance. Apart from a smile now and then, a greeting when no one was looking, he made no attempt to talk to him while they were in company. During meals he was seated at the other end of the table, anyway. In the staffroom he would normally sit with McGonagall or one of the other teachers he had grown very friendly with, and Severus found himself magnetically, almost jealously, drawn to the werewolf, sitting down opposite, though never next to him.

Severus was already subconsciously hoping that there would be enough room to sit down close to Lupin again today when he ascended the stairs to the Entrance Hall to spend a free period in the staffroom. Up to now, Lupin's scent had not yet been strong enough to finally recognise it among the perfumes of the witches usually sitting with him, or, indeed, the smell of the potions and explosions from Severus's own classroom. At least sitting opposite him Severus could not hope to ever breathe it in deeply enough and it was a little mystery of its own, one that he thought he would only solve once he got so close that they would touch – not just a brushing of fingers like a week ago, but a real touch, no gap left between them.

Shivering with the mere idea, Severus strode across the Entrance Hall and almost bumped into the object of his inappropriate desire. Lupin was just walking from the front doors towards the marble staircase, looking slightly windswept and rosy-cheeked. Severus stopped dead, suddenly nervous, his head light. They were alone, nobody was even close by. Lupin came to a halt as well and smiled his special smile at Severus, shaking his disheveled hair out of his eyes. He was rather close, so Severus took a deep breath to see if the sweet scent was in the air again, but as it seemed the wind had swept it away when whipping round Lupin's body outside. Today the werewolf smelled fresh, like cold air and autumn leaves.

"Good day to you, Severus," said Lupin cheerfully, and Severus had the impression that he was inching closer rather surreptitiously, as though trying to see how far he could go without making Severus uncomfortable. He sensed, as usual, the exact distance he had to stop at. "Is it your free period too? I have been to Hogsmeade to buy something to drink – oh, no alcohol!" he added when Severus shot him a mockingly disapproving look. "Butterbeer." And he pulled a bottle from his pocket.

"I see," said Severus and did not know how to continue. His throat felt dry. His head felt empty. He cursed himself for being incapable of talking to Lupin. The werewolf's amber eyes were in the way, so was his hair, falling nonchalantly into his eyes, and of course his smile, which reached his eyes and was for Severus only. They rendered Severus speechless. And that was quite some achievement. The crinkles round Lupin's eyes deepened.

"Would you like to have some with me?" he asked, shaking the bottle. Severus answered without thinking.

"Too sweet for my taste," he said and Lupin's face fell a little, covered up quickly by a chuckle.

"That's fine," he said and shrugged, but Severus saw that it wasn't fine. "Were you heading for the staffroom? Can I come with you?"

It surprised Severus that he was offered a second, much less obvious chance to agree to spend time together and seized it immediately, so as not to waste it carelessly again. "If you must," he said and wished he could have come up with something better than that, but Lupin seemed satisfied as he stowed the bottle away in his pocket. "Hogsmeade again, yes?" Severus asked, trying to make conversation.

Lupin nodded and let his gaze wander over the walls and ceiling as they walked up the marble staircase together. "Yes, I like it there … memories I like to dwell on, shops I like to buy in," he replied, smiling at Severus, "now that I can afford it again. If only I didn't have to pass the Dementors to get there … but I've got enough chocolate on me to keep their effect at bay, and a loyal Patronus, too." He stopped there, did not take charge of the conversation like he usually would, and thus silence fell. Severus couldn't believe that it should be so hard to find a topic to talk about and blamed it on chatty Lupin because it seemed evident that he was keeping silent on purpose, trying to see if Severus really wanted to talk to him. Well, he could have that.

"Is your Kappa still in good health?" asked Severus sarcastically and achieved the required effect: Lupin chuckled huskily, and as Severus glanced at him he found his face paling again to its usual ivory colour.

"Oh, he's fine, but he'll have to leave my office for a while," he said hoarsely and sounded just a little regretful. "He's going to move into my rooms until further notice. I am expecting a new guest very soon. A Grindylow. But I still need my Kappa. And I have grown attached to him and my Redcap …"

Severus snorted. "You talk about them as though they were pets," he said mockingly and Lupin shrugged.

"Haven't given them names, though," he said almost defensively, "my father used to say: give them a name and you cannot let go of them anymore. So, I don't give them names. Still hard to let them go." He chuckled again, self-ironically this time.

"They are not exactly cuddly, though, are they?" said Severus as they arrived at the staffroom, satisfied that he had managed to find a topic they could talk about easily. "You have to watch your back all the time."

"Not as long as they aren't hungry," Lupin pointed out, opening the staffroom door and stepping aside to let Severus pass. "And I know my stuff. Keep them under control with a couple of simple spells. Nothing to worry about. It's one of my fields of expertise."

"Of course," said Severus silkily, "how could I forget? That is, after all, the reason you are here."

"Lucky me," said Lupin with a wink and strolled towards the table to sit down beside McGonagall, who was grading homework and seemed glad of the distraction. Only a few teachers were present, so Severus used the chance to sit down opposite Lupin, which the werewolf rewarded with another one of those smiles. But unfortunately, their conversation was over.

While talking to McGonagall, Lupin glanced towards Severus more and more often, searching his eyes, but he didn't seem to dare talk to him. He seemed to respect something that Severus hadn't even voiced, but which obviously showed in his behaviour, or his eyes, or some other part of him that Lupin could read. He respected Severus's wish not to display their relationship to the staff, not to speak of the students. And Severus was grateful for it. He had feared that Lupin would demand friendly treatment and open conversations all the time, that he wouldn't understand that Severus couldn't provide that, not yet, maybe never. It was relieving that Lupin appeared to understand anything.

Silence fell for a while as Lupin's eyes strayed out of the window and watched Hagrid throwing an enormous branch for Fang to fetch near the edge of the Forest. Severus looked at the werewolf. Actually he wanted Lupin to talk to him now. Ask him to tea perhaps, very subtly, so Severus could agree and pretend to hate the idea, so that nobody else would realise that he really wanted to see Lupin alone. Though Severus knew that he could not quite make the impression that he loathed Lupin anymore. He supposed his colleagues had come to the conclusion that he had grown tired of loathing Lupin and now accepted him like every other one of his more insufferable colleagues. But no one would even suspect that there was more, he was sure, they had known him for too long to read more into Severus's lack of hostility than he would allow.

But that was also a reason to worry. Maybe Lupin, too, thought that he was merely an accepted colleague now and nothing more. Severus shouldn't have declined the Butterbeer. Why would Lupin ask him to tea if he thought that Severus wasn't interested? Severus wished he could make clear to him discreetly that it had really only been the Butterbeer he wasn't interested in. He wanted another meeting, wanted to be alone with Lupin again, but he didn't know how to ask for it without giving away just how much he wanted it. He did not want to expose himself to Lupin again. And apart from that, he was worried. In which way would their connection unfold? How could he steer it into the direction he wanted it to go into? And if it did, would he be able to handle it? Would he be up to it? He had never, after all, had such a relationship. It was troubling, indeed.

Sighing in quiet exasperation, he rested his chin on his fist and scowled at Lupin. He wasn't used to this. Whatever _this_ was. It cost him a lot of energy and patience – on which he was short anyway, most of the time. It had been … pleasant to talk to the werewolf, and Severus wished he could just step over the remainders of his fortress's walls to approach him again, but he had no resolution left to do it. Their encounter five days ago had worn him out. Lupin would have to take the next step and Severus felt sure that he would, sooner or later, if only to find out if he was allowed to. Even though it was taking him an extraordinary amount of time already. Severus was sure that he had not changed his mind about … _about us_ , Severus thought, frowning, _there is an us_. And it was a good thing that Severus knew they would meet in private several times during the week before the full moon at the very last.

Suddenly Severus became aware of Lupin's eyes on him, twinkling rather Dumbledorishly. The werewolf's lips were curled into a small smile that looked as though it was stubbornly fighting suppression. Averting his eyes self-consciously, Severus cast around for something to say, nothing too rude but something that would help him cover up that he was unable to ask Lupin to tea himself. Coming up with nothing witty or snide – which was strange enough because he was usually full fit to burst with such remarks, having to keep them in by force – Severus grew nervous under Lupin's golden gaze, which made his skin tingle. He was quite grateful, therefore, when McGonagall decided that she had something more to say to the werewolf and thus distracted him from Severus.

"Potter asked me to grant him permission to go to Hogsmeade on Hallowe'en, because his aunt and uncle didn't sign his form," she said sternly and Severus rolled his eyes. He would have been grateful for any other topic. Lupin showed far too much interest in the boy already.

"And did you?" asked Lupin, causing Severus to raise an incredulous eyebrow at him.

"Of course not!" said McGonagall firmly. "I'm not his guardian, therefore it would be inappropriate."

Lupin nodded, seeming relieved. "It is better this way, I'm sure," he said softly, "considering the circumstances. Though I do feel sorry for him. I understand his family don't treat him very well. But leaving the grounds seems unwise for him as long as … Black is on the loose." Lupin hesitated slightly at Black's name and Severus thought it might be because he didn't want to mention Black in front of Severus.

"I agree, he will have the chance to go to Hogsmeade next year, or as soon as it's safe again," said McGonagall and straightened her spectacles. "It would be far too dangerous to have him wandering about out of Dumbledore's protection. Though I don't believe that Black could sneak into Hogsmeade without anyone noticing."

Lupin fidgeted and it attracted Severus's attention. It seemed guilty somehow. "I don't think that we should make the mistake to underestimate him, he _did_ escape from Azkaban, after all," he said heavily.

"I wonder how he did it …" muttered McGonagall and Lupin fidgeted again.

"Who knows …" said Lupin quietly and leant back in his chair with a heavy sigh.

McGonagall smiled slightly, giving Lupin a sidelong glance. "Let's hope that Potter doesn't get into trouble again," she said and there was teasing in her voice. "He's so much like his father. And I believe we all remember what the four of you got up to at school. Only mischief on your minds and completely unconcerned about rules, not to mention safety."

Lupin chuckled and it sounded uneasy. "You have no idea," he muttered, rubbing his neck. Severus noticed that he was avoiding her eyes. And Severus's.

"Potter is _exactly_ like his father, a rule-breaker and troublemaker," sneered Severus and the other two looked at him. "He thinks himself a great hero, that boy."

"Well, whatever you say, Severus, up to now Potter has always acted nobly to help others, and he always succeeds in his endeavours," said McGonagall and sounded a little _too_ proud. She seemed to notice, for she hastened to add, "Not that I approve of his rule breaking."

"Oh, yes, if we hadn't got Potter to stop all the evil in the world we would all be lost," retorted Severus, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Let's make a parade for him. Actually, I am surprised that such a thing has not been thought of yet. 'The Harry Potter Day Parade' …" McGonagall scowled at him and Lupin raised his eyebrows.

"Harry is quite the hero, isn't he?" asked the werewolf thoughtfully. "Even I heard of the Basilisk and the encounter with Lord Voldemort in the depths of this school." He gave McGonagall a look as she flinched and his eyes flickered towards Severus, who glowered at him. "I am afraid that maybe one day he could run out of luck …"

"Hopefully," muttered Severus and earned himself scandalised looks from both of them. "Maybe the thought of Death coming for him in the form a giant black dog will prevent him leaping headfirst into life-threatening danger this year. But after all, not even the Monster of Slytherin was enough to scare him …" Severus almost regretted that the beast hadn't eaten Potter.

"He's brave," said Lupin, shrugging.

"He's a Gryffindor," McGonagall agreed proudly.

Severus rolled his eyes. _He's stupid_ , was what he wanted to say but he didn't want to annoy Lupin. Actually, on second thought, he did. A nice flash of anger would suit him well right now. But Severus had already missed the moment, the two Gryffindors had started talking again.

"Has Harry seen a black dog at all?" Lupin asked and Severus couldn't believe that the werewolf was so superstitious.

"Why, Lupin, you don't believe that a giant dog is following the boy around to bite his head off, do you?" he sneered and Lupin looked at him, his golden eyes worried.

"Of course not," he replied but Severus didn't quite believe him and even less when Lupin flinched as Fang barked outside, rather closer to the window than before.

"Potter hasn't talked to me about any such thing," said McGonagall, ignoring Severus altogether, "and I doubt if he would confide in me even if he had seen the Grim or any other ridiculous omen of death."

Though Lupin nodded, he seemed more worried than ever. It was curious. Severus wanted to get to the bottom of it. But not here and now, that would be inappropriate. So they spent the rest of their free period talking about lighter topics and accepting shortbread from a tin that McGonagall held out to them. When they left the staffroom together to be on time for their lessons, Severus had the impression that Lupin brushed against him deliberately as they passed through the doorway at the same time. Their arms touched lightly, and Lupin was careful not to meet Severus's eyes, smiling silently to himself. Watching him walk away, Severus waited until he had disappeared round a corner before he set off, too.

There were no exploding cauldrons, which made his afternoon classes much more pleasant than usual. Still he was looking forward to dinner, or rather to seeing Lupin again, rather more than was normal. But he was disappointed. When he entered the Great Hall, Lupin was not there and he did not arrive late, either. It was as though six cauldrons had exploded, after all. Severus chewed his lamb chops listlessly, wondering if Lupin was overworked and couldn't attend dinner because he had to grade homework. Cursing himself for not finding it in himself to simply visit him and ask for one of his teabags, Severus returned to his office. He didn't know what to say or do. He grew nervous whenever he thought about meeting Lupin in private, unprepared. He was worried that he'd end up revealing even more of himself to Lupin. And really, what if he said something harsh or rude again? He just couldn't control himself sometimes, it was only a matter of time. Lupin's patience surely wasn't endless. What if Severus said something utterly wrong? He would surely make a mess of things. And it would be Lupin who didn't want to associate with him anymore. Everything would have been in vain.

Entering his laboratory, Severus loosened his cravat and opened the topmost buttons of his shirt, heaving a sigh. He was facing yet another silent evening in his rooms. It was annoying that he even cared. He had never minded silence before. Severus lifted a cauldron onto the worktable and lit a fire underneath it, setting to work. He noticed almost too late that he was about to slice wolfsbane instead of daisy root. Restraining himself from hurling the knife across the room, Severus put the wolfsbane away. When he was starting to slice the daisy root, there was a knock on the door that caused him to look up. Who dared to disturb him now? Usually nobody knocked on his laboratory door, only Albus. After all, they would have to enter his office unasked. Impertinent.

"Who is it?" he called and started when he heard a hoarse voice answering.

"It is I, Remus … may I come in?"

There was that swooping sensation in Severus's stomach and he caught himself liking the fact that Lupin would give his first name as identification – it indicated familiarity. Hesitating for a few moments, Severus tried to scold himself for that ridiculous thought. When he was unsuccessful, he laid down his knife and took a deep breath. This was what he had been waiting for. Though he had not expected it to happen tonight. He cleared his throat.

"Enter," he said a little too quietly, but Lupin seemed to have heard, for the door opened and the werewolf entered, smiling, obviously cheerful but tired.

"Good evening, Severus," he said pleasantly, approaching Severus slowly, looking at the cauldron and ingredients. "You are brewing?"

Looking down, Severus took up his knife again to continue slicing the daisy root, double-checking that it really was daisy root this time. "Obviously," he muttered, dropping the daisy root into the cauldron, producing a bubbling noise.

"Hope I'm not disturbing you," said Lupin politely, but it was obvious what he wanted Severus to say.

The same carelessness that had made him decline the Butterbeer, would almost have made Severus say "yes", as he caught himself almost dicing another wrong ingredient. But he bit his tongue, taking the right ingredient, and shook his head. He did not want Lupin to leave, after all. At least he thought he didn't. "I doubt that it will be entertaining to watch me brewing, though," he said and felt self-conscious again. Brewing never made him feel self-conscious. That man turned everything upside down. Severus dropped the diced gingerroot into the cauldron and watched the potion change its colour from light blue to red. Severus stirred it once clockwise and twice anticlockwise. Again it changed colour, simmering softly, this time to a pale pink. Severus nodded in satisfaction.

"Oh, it _is_ entertaining," Lupin said, and when Severus looked up at him in confusion, he added, "It's interesting to watch you. It is inspiring. You really are passionate about potions."

Thoughtfully, Severus poured leech juice into the potion, enjoying the pleasant smile on Lupin's face, and stirred again. The smoke rising from the cauldron between them furled round Lupin's face and obscured his golden eyes. Severus couldn't see him properly anymore and waved his hand through the air to clear his view. The melodious simmering of the potion was a nice accompaniment to the werewolf's hoarse voice. Nodding slowly, Severus said, "I am."

"I was never much of a potion-brewer myself," remarked Lupin unnecessarily, for Severus remembered their Potions classes very well. "Was always pure torture to me. I was glad to drop it after fifth year. You, on the other hand, don't even need instructions, you even improve existing potions. Some would call you a genius," he added and paused with a smile that brought the swooping back to Severus's stomach.

"Some might," he conceded truthfully and realised that he was thoroughly enjoying Lupin's praise.

"I heard that you only take Outstanding students into your NEWT classes …" Lupin continued and his smile became amused, "making sure to get rid of those who don't deserve your attention?"

Severus smirked slightly as he cut off the heads of some cockroaches, noticing that Lupin was edging closer to watch. "It is an art, brewing, and it is common knowledge that not everybody is an artist," he said silkily, and enjoyed the werewolf's husky chuckle as the cockroach heads fell into the potion. Severus wanted more of that chuckle. He needed a whole lot of it to store it away for bad times. Which would surely come. Were probably already on their way.

"I don't have the gift, do I?" Lupin said in amusement, but Severus's smirk vanished.

"What I said does not apply to you," he muttered, stirring the potion, "I don't have to waste my time teaching you, after all."

"Just a joke, Severus," the werewolf said, leaning against the worktable so close to Severus that he was only an inch away from _too_ close. He picked up a rattail thoughtfully, looking at it in silence. Severus remembered that Lupin had seemed appalled by the idea of rats in potions when he had first entered Severus's office. After a few moments, Severus took the rattail out of Lupin's hand to cut it and their fingers brushed, causing Severus to linger for a little longer than absolutely necessary. "Some of those ingredients I will never get used to," said Lupin and made a face when he heard the bone crack under Severus's knife.

Severus raised an eyebrow. He was used to the fact that few people understood the beauty of potion-making and the quality of the ingredients needed. But usually he would not bother explaining it to those who were ignorant. Now, though, he felt an inexplicable need to do so. Well, maybe not that inexplicable. So he thought of a metaphor that would make Lupin understand, and had a try.

"The ingredients are colours and the order in which I add them to the potion is the composition of the picture that I shall paint with them. Though you might not appreciate each colour individually, maybe even despise it for its unpleasant shade, you will see that combined they add up to something far greater and more magnificent than the mere sum of its parts. This –" he said raising his ladle, "is my brush and I am the painter, naturally. And the finished potion –" he poured some of the potion into a glass that was standing beside the cauldron, showing it to Lupin, "is my work of art."

The werewolf took the glass from him and his eyes twinkled when he held the potion up to the flickering torchlight, watching the potion change colour from green to blue and back again when he tilted the glass a little. "You must be proud of it."

Severus watched him. He liked to see his work finished, perfect and beautiful, but he liked it even more to watch Lupin admiring it. "I invest great effort in it, I perfect recipes and instructions. Sometimes it is dirty and takes a lot of time and hard work, but when it is finished and the result satisfies me, then yes … I think I am proud."

Lupin looked at him and smiled. Fondly, Severus thought for a moment before finding it too ridiculous. "Well, you are an excellent Potioneer, maybe even the best," said Lupin, handing Severus back the potion. Severus felt an oddly pleasant surge of pride at those words. As if it meant more when Lupin said it than when anyone else did. Although the werewolf wasn't even close to being an expert. To Severus it meant more than the many awards in his rooms. Looking down into the glass, he saw Lupin's reflection in the potion. _How ridiculous, Severus_.

"Maybe I am," he said, rather more modest than he usually was. Noticing again how very close Lupin was standing to him, he felt the warmth radiating from him, and if he had moved his hand but a few inches to the left, it would have touched Lupin's. But Lupin displayed again his excellent feeling for personal space, remaining at the very border of Severus's. Severus turned and summoned a few phials from a cupboard to fill them with the potion, labeling them and laying them down neatly, side by side, on the table. Lupin was still watching him intently.

Knowing somehow that the werewolf would be interested, would want to know, like no one else would, Severus felt the urge to tell him more, to tell him about the magnificence of potions that most people didn't recognise. He wanted to tell someone who would truly listen and understand that he did not do it for gold or any other kind of gain, but for reasons too obscure for the ordinary wizard to see. Lupin would see, he would comprehend. Potions were to Severus what Dark creatures were to Lupin. The pleasure of talking to Lupin became evident once more. And suddenly it wasn't difficult anymore – there was a wonderful ease to it that hadn't been there before.

"You see," Severus said, letting his fingers ghost over the phials, "spells are useful, but most people can cast them more or less successfully. Potion-making is something that you must have a feeling for. You should recognise the beauty of the swirling fumes, rising in all colours and smells from the singing cauldron, promising love and hatred, sanity and madness, life and death with its bubbling voice. If you don't, you will never be much of a potion-brewer. You can keep to the instructions but there is a difference between the stoic mixing of ingredients to achieve a result that merely fulfils its purpose, and the creative and skilful fusing of ingredients, timing, and stirring to produce a potion that is not merely functional, but outstanding and extraordinary in effect. A certain amount of passion is essential," he paused and looked round at Lupin, who was smiling slightly, brows knitted in careful concentration.

"It must be frustrating that most people don't share your enthusiasm," he said and picked up one of the phials, closing his fist around it. "Though your potion-making deserves some more appreciation, doesn't it? I suppose there is only one student in a hundred who can start to understand what you know."

Severus swallowed and, indeed, he felt enthusiastic. "Only a very few understand," he said quietly, "that a potion is almighty. It can control your body and your mind. It can mean the difference between life and death, it can wash away sicknesses, wounds, and pain.

"It can be liquid love, creating an illusion so perfect that you will never be able to tell lover from enemy.

"It can reveal the darkest of truths no matter how deeply it is buried, how cleverly concealed behind the thickest of walls constructed of lies.

"A potion can even tame the savage beast that lurks within you, waiting impatiently for the next opportunity to break loose. It can shackle the wolf to the very back of your mind, freeing you from the danger its sharp fangs pose, loosening the eternal hold it has on you," Severus concluded, his eyes meeting the werewolf's, whose expression had become quite unfathomable when Severus had mentioned the Wolfsbane Potion. Lupin's lips were slightly parted, and he was rolling the phial with potion between his deft fingers. For a few suffocating moments, Severus believed he had gone too far.

There was a short silence until Lupin set down the phial beside the others, carefully and neatly. When he turned to Severus again, though, with a raised eyebrow and a vague smile, resting his hand on the worktable, he looked as if he had just received a valuable gift from Severus. "You are a poet, Severus," he said quietly, the firelight reflected in his golden eyes. "When you talk about potions, it sounds so effortless. I wonder why you cannot seem to captivate your students. Personally, I enjoy listening to you very much."

Severus didn't know what to reply. Usually, nobody said so many nice things to him in one breath. Not that he cared. But when Lupin said such things, it seemed to matter. And Severus felt proud. Had he really said he enjoyed listening to Severus? Could it be true? Well, Lupin was rather peculiar … Maybe he was peculiar enough to actually mean what he said.

"As I said, the beauty of potions is not visible to everybody. But there are some who can make it out when taught how to see it," he said

"It is rather a beautiful potion, this one," Lupin said, nodding at the potion that was still changing colour in the torchlight. Severus raised an eyebrow.

"If you believe it or not, this potion has a purpose other than delighting naïve Gryffindors, such as yourself," he replied coolly and took the freshly brewed potion to the shelves in his storage chamber. "As it happens, quite ironically, if you were to drink it, it would kill you instantly, so beware."

Lupin chuckled and Severus was relieved despite himself that he had not offended the werewolf. That he was still granted the pleasure of his husky chuckle, and that he was bestowed with another smile that made Severus's head light. Lupin's light brown hair was shimmering in the torchlight, framing the mellow, pale skin of his too tired face. Severus noticed the faint scar on the werewolf's chin that reminded him of the beast that lived within, and it seemed suddenly utterly unreal to him that this kind and gentle man transformed into a savage wolf once a month.

"Sometimes the most beautiful of things tend to kill us …" he muttered and Lupin gave him a curious look.

"I'm glad I decided to visit you today," Lupin said quietly and slowly made for the door of the lab. At the door, he turned and gave Severus a knee-weakening smile. "Thank you for letting me watch. I'll see you tomorrow, then. Goodnight, Severus," he said warmly and left, closing the door behind him. Severus stared at the door and wished he'd been able to ask Lupin to stay for a cup of tea. Without him there, the dungeon was even colder and emptier than before. Much more silent, too.

Maybe Severus's like poetry to Lupin, but Lupin himself was personified poetry. Fair and kind, ailed by the darkest of secrets, but full of warmth and comfort for others, even those who didn't deserve it. His knowing eyes, like clear lakes without bottoms, their surfaces showing every stirring, every movement in their depths. Severus could have found many more poetic words to describe him, so fascinated was he with the werewolf, so captivated was his mind. There was no way of letting go of him.

Severus cleared away his ingredients and the cauldron and put out the fire. When he retired to his rooms, he lit a fire in the grate – in vain, though, since the fresh memory of the werewolf's warmth could not be compared to. He heaved a sigh and slumped down on his sofa. He would never be able to utter the words he formed in his mind, so he hoped that maybe one day Lupin would read them in his eyes. He was no poet. He couldn't even put his own feelings into words, was completely ignorant when it came to relationships. He couldn't find elegant expressions for his troubles and he didn't feel relieved after voicing them in any of his clumsy ways.

But he did feel better when Lupin voiced them, when he found words for Severus's thoughts and feelings. Lupin's presence was somehow soothing. It seemed as if Lupin knew the exact words and behaviour that were needed in a specific situation. His whole presence was aesthetic, was healing, was pleasant. And Severus felt listened to and understood, as if the things he told Lupin were meaningful not only to himself but to the werewolf as well, as if he was respected, even cherished for who he was for the first time in his life.

Lupin was indeed a worthy confidant, one of a very few whom Severus judged worthy to entrust him with the things that mattered to him. Lupin gave Severus the feeling that he was better than he believed, lightening the weight on his shoulders. And all he could offer in return were coldness and snide remarks.

No, Severus was no poet. But Remus Lupin was poetry.


	11. Lesson Eleven: Amity

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, I hope you're still following. The story progresses slowly, but never fear, the next to chapters will bring some progress. We're starting to get somewhere.

* * *

 **Lesson Eleven: Amity**

Something had changed, something that made Severus take an active part in this whole business with Lupin. It was not that Severus suddenly felt more confident, or surer that this relationship would unfold to his advantage. In fact, ever since Lupin's visit to his laboratory, he had not feel anything much but tempting curiosity. Whenever Severus saw the werewolf in conversation with another teacher, he felt sure that, whatever it was they were talking about, it was neither as stimulating nor as interesting to Lupin as whatever Severus had to say. Suddenly, Severus seemed to be the one who was closer to Lupin than anyone else, suddenly it wasn't him anymore who sat and watched something he did not understand or belong to. He was the one who understood, he was the one who could pull Lupin away from any conversation with a mere glance and make him talk to him instead. It was a gratifying feeling and he had spent most of the morning enjoying it. Sometimes he thought that Lupin noticed, which he probably did, but the werewolf made no remark and seemed to be pleased with Severus's attention. Not that Severus showed his attention overtly, but Lupin saw it.

On the other hand, Lupin seemed to have decided that it was now Severus's turn to do something to contribute to their – whatever it was between them. Lupin appeared to be a tease on top of everything, he only communicated with looks, never did he try to say anything about it, though, and Severus thought he was tempting him on purpose. The trace of Lupin's sweet scent that was left in the air wherever he lingered for a few moments was very alluring, too. And Severus caught himself wondering if there was a plan behind that as well. Whether or not Lupin was indeed twisting him around his finger again was unimportant, for the plan, if there was one, definitely worked. This was just as effective as Lupin's stubborn resolution and unwavering calm had been in his first weeks as a teacher at Hogwarts.

Today, Severus had decided, he was going to pay him a visit. It had taken him some time to reach that decision, walking back and forth in his rooms. But in the end, it had been clear to him that this was what he had to do, what he wanted to do. Severus was growing increasingly impatient. It was lunchtime now, and Severus was on his way to Hogsmeade, while everybody else was in the Great Hall. He had no desire to be seen doing what he was about to do and be forced to answer uncomfortable questions. It was uncomfortable enough to pass the Dementors, which he did at a slight run, shutting out their influence as he hurried downhill and along the path that led to the village. Though the streets were rather less frequented than they would have been at the weekend, Severus attracted many eyes as he walked along the High Street. He tried to appear as though he was there for no particular reason, simply happening to be ambling through the village. Not that anybody would believe it if he told them what he was here for.

Stopping outside Hogsmeade's best tea shop, Severus looked left and right to make sure nobody had followed him – an old habit – and entered. Passing by the aisle with black teas because he was sure that Lupin would not like those, Severus turned into an aisle with milder brands and stopped in front of a large shelf, looking up and down, reading the labels on the countless little drawers, undecided which brand he should buy. Severus would always buy some fancy tea for Albus because the more colourful and unusual it was, the more excited the Headmaster would be to drink it. But Lupin seemed like he was a little more serious about tea at least. And Severus did not want him to interpret anything into the tea … _don't be ridiculous, Snape!_

"Ah, Professor Snape!" said a croaking voice behind him and he turned to find Mr Leaf, the shop keeper, a little old man with grizzly grey hair, tiny eyes, and a monocle, standing beside him with a wide smile, rubbing his hands as if he expected Severus to spend a fortune on tea today. "I haven't seen you in a while. Can I help you in any way?"

Severus turned to the shelf again and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes," he said slowly, deciding that he would never be able to choose the best one among the many brands.

"Not your usual tea, then? Do you wish to try something new?" the shop keeper asked and stepped closer to the shelf, peering up at Severus.

"It is a …" Severus hesitated before continuing, "a gift. I am going to visit someone and I don't want to arrive empty-handed." He pulled out a little drawer and looked at it but put it back again. Mr Leaf nodded thoughtfully.

"Well, then, do you know your friend's preferences?" he asked and Severus scowled at him at the word "friend". Lupin's preferences? If he knew those it would make everything easier, not only the choice of tea.

"Well, we have not been … _friends_ … for very long, so I can only guess at his preferences," he said, remembering the taste of the teabags and the werewolf's longing for sugar. "He likes his tea sweet and mild, I think." Severus thought about Lupin's cup always being half full when his own was already empty and he was about to leave. But maybe that was just so he did not need to buy new tea too soon. "Gold doesn't play a role, I want good quality, something special," he added, thinking of the dusty tin of teabags.

"I see, I have just the thing …" said Mr Leaf and with a swish of his wand he opened a drawer at the top of the shelf and it soared into Severus's hands. "White tea, the mildest of teas with a light and sweet flavour. Of the finest quality of course! And certainly the right tea to bring as a special gift."

Severus looked into the drawer at the whitish leaves and found it a perfect choice. "I'll take it," he said, "and some Darjeeling for myself."

Mr Leaf grinned happily, rubbing his hands once again (the man could really try and hide his greed for profit), waving his wand to summon the Darjeeling and make the drawers hover after him into the backroom. "Just a moment, please," he called and Severus made his way to the counter at the entrance. When the old man came back with two golden tins, putting them in a bag and taking the gold from Severus, he told him that he had put a card with instructions for the tea's preparation into each tin, wishing him "a nice day, Professor" when Severus exited the shop.

Severus glanced into the bag. The first step had been taken, now he only had to walk up the stairs to Lupin's office in the evening, knock on his door, and give him the tea. That would start a conversation, no doubt. No reason to get nervous about it. It was just a normal meeting for a cup of tea. One like those he'd had with Albus a million times before. Only that this time he was bringing a _gift_ , and the person he was going to have tea with wasn't his old, white-bearded, eye-twinkling, annoying boss. It was Remus Lupin, handsome and tempting. And many other things. Admittedly, Lupin, too, had twinkling eyes. But they were golden and their gaze was easier to bear. In fact it was desirable. And just when Severus thought that Lupin would see through him and interpret Merlin knew what into that tea, he remembered the twitching smile and the penetrating look and the vulnerable feeling they both incited in him.

Lost in thought, trying to chase away the light feeling in his stomach, he ran straight into Minerva McGonagall, almost knocking her over. "Severus!" she cried, straightening her hat. He slipped the tea into his robes and nodded at her with a look that he knew she would recognise as apologetic. "What are you doing here?"

"Shopping ingredients," he said curtly. And cursed her for not attending lunch with everybody else. He could have sworn that he had seen her enter the Great Hall.

"Ah, I see," she muttered, sizing him up. "Well, then I'll see you in the castle." She turned and walked away into the direction of Honeydukes.

While Severus was walking back up the street towards the castle, lost in thought, he passed the Dementors again, which were standing guard either side of the wrought-iron gates which led into the grounds. He hated passing them. It was pure torture. He felt dreadful every time he got too close to them, even more dreadful than he usually felt. Full of guilt, disappointment, bitterness, fear, and despair, he had to force himself to keep going, step by step. What was it really worth, this miserable, lonely life of his _? Just keep putting one foot in front of the other, Snape_ , he thought, squinting up at the castle, as the sunlight that was reflected by Lupin's window up in one of the towers blinded him momentarily.

When he finally left the Dementors' coldness behind, staring up at that window, he was almost sure that he had seen the gleam of Lupin's golden eyes behind the glass. And indeed, a moment later the werewolf threw open the window and leaned forward on the windowsill, holding his face into the fresh air. Severus quickened his step but Lupin caught sight of him before he could reach the front doors. Lupin waved at him, once, nonchalantly, and Severus embarrassed himself by stumbling up the stone steps because his eyes were fixed on the werewolf's brown hair, gleaming in the sunlight. He did not return the wave.

Severus was so preoccupied that he didn't pay much attention to the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff fifth-years in their double-Potions class that afternoon which was probably the reason why one of their cauldrons melted, burning a black hole into one of the tables in the third row. Severus took twenty points from Gryffindor quite gleefully and was in rather a good mood when he ascended to dinner. He was hoping for a quick word with Lupin to ask him if he could spare some time that evening but the werewolf was not at dinner – his absences seemed to be becoming a bad habit and Severus wondered if Lupin had difficulty handling his workload. But on the other hand, he thought he might just have backed out again if he had met Lupin, and he would like to see the look of – hopefully pleasant – surprise on Lupin's face when he simply appeared on his doorstep unannounced.

After dinner, Severus made his way upstairs to Lupin's office, clutching the round tin full of tea in his pocket. He felt his neck growing warmer with every step and cursed himself for being such a fool, fussing like that. But he could not help wondering how Lupin would react, if he would accept the tea, proud as he was. He might think that it was pity. Ah, but he knew Severus too well to think that he had pity for anyone. Once Severus had reached the office, he looked around to make sure the corridor was deserted and knocked three times as usual. Feeling his heart stopping with silly nervousness, he held his breath in unfounded apprehension.

"Come in, Severus," called Lupin from inside and Severus was taken aback for a moment. Had Lupin been expecting him or could he see through doors?

Severus opened the door to the sight of the werewolf carrying a few boxes in his arms, smiling brightly, a faint flush on his cheeks. Severus stepped over the threshold, closing the door, and scowled at the werewolf. The Kappa had gone from its corner. "How did you know it was me?" asked Severus suspiciously.

Lupin raised his eyebrows at him and put down the boxes on one of the shelves that were lining the walls. "I heard you walk along the corridor," he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Or rather, I heard you stride. A very loud way of walking, striding. And you have a very particular way of striding, I recognise you by the frequency and the vigour of your steps. There's a determination in your stride and there's a stride in your walk, even when you slow your step. Do you know what I mean? Surely there are people you recognise by merely hearing them walk? If you want to come here undetected you must creep, not stride."

Lupin paused and considered Severus with an absent smile. Severus thought that somehow Lupin had said something very intimate. He did not quite know why, but what Lupin had said about recognising him by his stride gave Severus the feeling that they were close. Closer than just a minute ago. He looked into Lupin's amber eyes and wondered if he would recognise Lupin by his walk without knowing it was him.

"Kind of you to visit me," said Lupin after a few moments. "I've missed dinner again, haven't I? So much work to get done ... I really need to get used to having a full timetable." He laughed softly.

Severus hesitated for a moment, still caught in that slightly embarrassing feeling of familiarity that had washed over him just a moment ago. Then he cleared his throat and pulled the tea out of his pocket. Lupin's amber eyes wandered slowly to the tin in Severus's hand and his eyebrows elevated as the corners of his mouth twitched. After another moment of hesitation, Severus held out the tin to Lupin, whose hand positively sprang into the air to take it as though he had only waited for a sign to tell him that it was indeed for him.

"I thought you might have use for this," said Severus and felt foolish despite everything as Lupin's smile widened in apparent delight. It suited him well.

"Thank you so much, Severus, that wouldn't have been necessary," said the werewolf happily, turning the tin in his hands, and he took off the lid to sniff the contents.

"I know," Severus said and bit his tongue. But Lupin just chuckled, obviously recognising the true meaning of those words.

"From Leaf's Leaves?" asked Lupin, taking the card out of the tin. Severus nodded and smirked inwardly as Lupin's eyes grew rather round. "But, Severus, that must have cost you a fortune. You shouldn't have –"

But Severus waved his hand as though to wipe the matter away. "Not at all," he said stiffly. "Though it would be only decent of you to invite me to a cup now, to test the quality. Of course I know that decency isn't exactly a Gryffindor strength ..."

"Let's try it, then, shall we?" said Lupin pleasantly, smiling warmly at Severus as he opened the door to his rooms. Severus's stomach gave a pleasant jolt as he was invited into Lupin's private space. It was intimate somehow.

Lupin indicated the sofa to Severus, which seemed to be what he thought was respectful, as his only private possession among the furniture, the armchair, was rather shabby. So Severus sat down, crossing his legs, and glanced around. The walls were still naked but for the Gryffindor flag and the books and the only other possession of importance was still the Lunascope. And perhaps one had to count the cage of the Redcap and its little inmate, which appeared to be asleep, and the Kappa in its tank, which was equally lazy. Lupin seemed to be spending most of his time in his office. Severus had a feeling that Lupin did not want to make himself too much at home. The werewolf produced two cups and a kettle out of thin air and took the card with instructions to read it carefully.

"I have never had the privilege to drink white tea," he said cheerfully and tapped the kettle with his wand, making it whistle. "Never any gold to spare …" He smiled as he ladled tea into the pot with a spoon. Severus felt both uncomfortable and pleased. It was good that Lupin was grateful and satisfied, but Severus thought he had also made him feel – inadvertently so – that he was poor and Severus was rich. He had not meant to humiliate Lupin. Not today. He had meant to give him something to enjoy. Not to make the distance between them seem greater.

Handing Severus a steaming cup, Lupin sat down opposite him in the threadbare armchair. Severus found that Lupin had put a piece of chocolate on each on their saucers, probably because of the Dementors, but he didn't touch it for now. They took a sip of tea at the same time and Severus stole a surreptitious glance at Lupin over the rim of his cup, tasting the mild tea, maybe a little too mild for his taste but apparently just right for Lupin, judging by the closed eyes and the smile on his lips that told of enjoyment. Lupin leant back in his armchair, a relaxed expression on his face, his cheeks still slightly flushed, and heaved a hoarse sigh, sending a pleasant shiver through Severus's body.

"I have never drunk such good tea before," he said and rolled the cup between his hands as he gave Severus a look of too pronounced gratitude.

"It is worth it's gold," Severus concurred and averted his eyes, maybe a little too late to conceal that he had been watching Lupin. "I am … pleased that you enjoy it."

Lupin looked at him with a slight frown and Severus wondered if he had said something wrong. "I do," the werewolf said softly, and when Severus met his intense gaze, he thought that there lingered a deeper meaning in those two words. Lupin's eyes never left his when he took another sip of his tea. "You passed the Dementors, didn't you?" he asked then, quietly, and Severus let his eyes drift out of the window to the wrought-iron gates where the rotten creatures lurked.

"Yes," he replied curtly.

"I am just relieved that the Headmaster won't let them into the grounds," muttered the werewolf, still looking at Severus – and Severus wished he wouldn't, "I can barely stand their presence. What about you, Severus?"

Severus didn't want to answer but his mouth spoke of its own accord. "Yes, indeed," he said coolly but he regained control over his voice before it could utter anything too intimate, "every time I pass them I feel nothing but despair. The cruel certainty that I shall never find a reason good enough to get Potter expelled clings to me stubbornly. The thought of having to bear him for five more years makes my skin crawl."

Lupin gave him a half-heartedly scolding look. "I'm sure that Harry could say the same about you, my dear Severus," he said and Severus would almost have choked on his tea at the words "my dear". "And as far as I've heard, he's got good reason."

"Many people do," Severus replied indifferently and Lupin raised his eyebrows.

"And you don't care?" he asked and Severus sneered at him.

"No," said Severus simply. Of course Lupin would not understand. He liked to be liked, he liked others easily, and it was easy to like him.

"Personally, I like to be liked," said Lupin, indeed as though he had looked into Severus's mind. "You see, when people like me for who I am it tells me that I am not as bad as they would expect me to be if they knew what I am," said Lupin frankly. "It is proof that there really is no reason to hate me just because I am … a werewolf. And that is a good feeling. But you don't care if people like you at all?"

Severus shook his head and Lupin cocked his head to one side, his golden eyes looking through Severus like only they could. No, Severus did not care. Not about the students, anyway. He found that being feared and respected was a good thing. If the price was hatred, what of it? As long as Lupin didn't hate him … but he could not tell Lupin that. He wouldn't tell him that he was glad of his presence here, that he didn't resent him anymore.

Suddenly another smile spread over Lupin's face and he turned away with a knowing look, keeping to himself whatever he had seen in Severus's eyes. Taking a sip of his tea, Severus let the sweet taste roll slowly over his tongue and watched Lupin take a sip of his own. He feared that the werewolf had seen too much again, had perhaps glimpsed what Severus hadn't wanted to show him. But it was too late to worry now, he would have to be more careful about eye contact in future.

"That bad?" said Lupin in a very hoarse voice and cleared his throat, achieving only little improvement. "When you pass the Dementors, I mean. Is it so bad that you need to distract me with sarcasm?"

Severus stared at him for a moment. He really didn't need to say anything, it seemed, and he wondered why he even wasted his breath if Lupin could just look at him and read whatever Severus had to say in his eyes or wherever else it was written. Occlumency was no use. Lupin saw Severus's thoughts, no matter how tightly closed Severus's mind was. Severus didn't answer but took another sip of tea, looking at his shoes.

"Another thing we have in common, it seems," muttered the werewolf and got up, strolling to the window to look out over the grounds. "I suppose we are very close to understanding why Harry faints when they draw near. It is cruel to laugh at him." Lupin's right hand moved to his left side, unconsciously it seemed, and his fingers dug into the fabric of his robes where they covered his waist. Severus narrowed his eyes. Maybe Lupin would never show him the scar left by the werewolf bite that had changed his life, but now Severus knew where to find it. Draining his cup and setting it down on the table, Severus got up and walked across the room to stand behind Lupin at an appropriate distance, glancing over his shoulder at the gates. The sweet smell that surrounded Lupin teased him with its faintness and appeared to be luring him closer. But he would not narrow the distance.

"Do you remember the night when you were bitten?" asked Severus and knew it was tactless. But he wasn't exactly famous for his tact anyway.

Lupin turned his head slightly. "When the Dementors are near me, I do. All of it," he almost whispered, and his face was suddenly paler even than usual. "The shock, the pain, the feeling of almost dying. And then I wish I had died. And I remember another night, watching their dead bodies being carried out of the ruined house, being told that Sirius was a traitor. And then I feel dreadfully alone." He stopped, passing a hand over his face.

Severus looked away. Who was he to think that he was the only one suffering? Lupin had experienced pain that Severus did not know. And part of that pain had been caused by Severus's mistakes. There was a painfully constricting feeling in his throat now. A silence stretched between them that was so thick with unsaid words that it hurt Severus's ears and made them buzz. He wanted to break it, needed to break it. But what he wanted to say seemed unspeakable. He had never talked about it to anyone, not even Dumbledore. And yet, the werewolf's presence loosened his tongue and enabled him to utter what was too painful to even be thought about.

"The guilt I feel when they are close is almost unbearable," he said, and was aware of Lupin's attention at once. "Though they are old deeds, very old deeds, the things I did when I was … a Death Eater … at the Dark Lord's service … so many cruel acts, so many deaths … they come to me as clearly as though they had been done recently. And I feel … unworthy of treading the same ground as the rest of you." He faltered and could say no more. He couldn't tell the werewolf the whole truth after all, feared the consequences.

Lupin took the last sip from his cup and set it down on the windowsill, turning round to face Severus. He looked neither angry nor disgusted. He looked as though Severus's pain had been transferred to him. "I understand, Severus … you needn't say anything more," he said quietly and looked like a man who had seen and felt too much. "Everybody makes mistakes and they may haunt us forever if we don't forgive ourselves. What you did might be unforgivable. Yet, I choose to forgive you. But only forgiving yourself will really give you peace."

Severus could hardly believe his ears. He knew he could not forgive himself. He could not forgive anyone anything and he was just as hard on himself. How could Lupin just do it as easily as though it was about breaking his favourite cup? Severus did not deserve it. However, he disagreed with Lupin on only finding peace in forgiving oneself. Lupin's forgiveness had given him some peace, and the feeling that he did not deserve it made him uncomfortable. He wished he had not said anything at all, had just let the silence stretch.

"The mistakes I made in the past have created this rift between us that will probably last forever," said Lupin even more quietly, his amber eyes searching Severus's face. Severus was thankful for the change of topic and knew that Lupin had realised that Severus did not wish to speak about his own mistakes anymore. Lupin was very considerate. A pleasant character trait that Severus did not find in himself or anybody else he knew. He liked it. He appreciated the way Lupin _knew_ things.

"Maybe not forever," said Severus in what he hoped was an offhand voice.

Lupin's smile was very warm indeed. He stepped past Severus, pulling his sweet scent with him teasingly, and sat down on his armchair again, patting the sofa to make Severus follow suit. Severus complied without comment and they looked at each other in silence for a while. Severus saw that Lupin had something on his mind and was trying to decide whether or not it was wise to say it. It took him a while but then he said, "After the full moon you said – I didn't quite understand. You did not want me here, after all. I thought it was because you are frightened of what I am – because of what almost happened in the Shrieking Shack when we were children."

Severus did not answer at first. Did he fear Lupin? He considered the werewolf and told himself "no" at once. There was nothing about Lupin that was anywhere near frightening. He did fear the wolf, yes, after having encountered it almost eighteen years ago, it was only natural not to foster a wish of seeing it again. But he had taken care of that part of Lupin, too, it was no longer dangerous. And Lupin, the man, Severus did not fear in the slightest, quite the contrary. He thought that, right now, he was enjoying his company extraordinarily much. Trust, however, was something completely other.

"Mistrust and fear are not the same," he said slowly. "The danger of a werewolf poses cannot be denied, however, that does not mean that the human who suffers from lycanthropy should be feared or mistrusted. Most people don't realise that being a werewolf doesn't make one a dangerous or untrustworthy person. The reason why I did not want you here had nothing to do with your condition."

Lupin's eyes were wide and incredulous when Severus looked into them. Severus couldn't help feeling uncomfortable. He took a deep breath, inhaling Lupin's faint sweet fragrance and looked into his amber eyes. Few times in his life had he looked at somebody who captivated him so, who was not only becoming in appearance but also gave him a pleasant feeling, whose company he didn't want to leave as soon as he could – on the contrary he wanted to prolong it. Lupin's attractiveness was not merely in his looks – it was much more than that, it was Lupin's voice, his personality, it was what lay hidden inside him, the kindness, the resolution, the calm, and the challenge they all posed. Severus's eyes found the little scar on Lupin's jaw and wandered to the werewolf's elegant hands, folded in his lap. He had not wanted him at Hogwarts. But now that he was there, Severus was glad of it.

"I've already told you that I don't think of you as a Dark creature," said Severus, when Lupin seemed unable, for once, to express what he was feeling. "You are the host of a parasitic Dark creature, that is all. You deserve all the chances that I get and only use reluctantly and ungratefully most of the time. They should be yours, not mine." Severus meant every word, surprised by his own sincerity. Now he could give the werewolf something in return for his kindness. Lupin's eyes never left his. He was sitting on the very edge of his armchair, his knees almost touching Severus's, his posture somewhat stiff, as if expectant.

"Why … why are you telling me this?" asked Lupin hoarsely and Severus had his answer ready.

"I thought that it was necessary you heard it," he said firmly and looked straight into Lupin's eyes. "I thought that somebody ought to tell you."

Lupin looked overcome with emotion then, and Severus was just wondering if it was indecent to watch the werewolf with this much greedy curiosity while he was so obviously moved and if Lupin would prefer him to avert his eyes, when something startling, something incredible happened, and his heart skipped a beat. For a split second, Severus thought that Lupin had come closer, had leant in to –

But no … that must have been his imagination. Wishful thinking maybe. Though he had not known until now that this was actually his wish. It could not have happened. Why would Lupin – but the werewolf lowered his eyes as he sat up a little straighter, rubbing his neck with a grin and a furrowed brow, blushing slightly as he shook his head as though scolding himself for wanting to do something inappropriate or foolish. Could it be? Had Lupin wanted to do it, but thought better of it? Maybe because he expected rejection? Severus had never seen Lupin blush like this before, anyway. The thought made his heart pound faster. He had never _really_ thought about anything like that, despite the feelings for Lupin that he couldn't deny. He would never have thought that Lupin would want it. But now that he was under the impression that it had almost happened, the wish was strong and clear in him, as though it had always been there. And he failed to feel ashamed or embarrassed. Being close to Lupin, wanting to be close to him, felt oddly right. He had not felt like that in a very long time. Maybe never quite like this.

The werewolf's hand fidgeted a little as though he would like to reach for Severus's but did not dare. He was still so close, almost, but not quite, touching Severus. Severus wanted Lupin to touch him. Wanted to feel his warm skin. He could not say or do it himself, though, so he waited for the werewolf to read it in his eyes, displaying the message in them as clearly as he could. But the golden eyes were directed at the floor, afraid, possibly, that Severus might have noticed his movement and realised what he would almost have done. And the moment was over.

"Thank you for saying that, Severus," said Lupin to the floor and though his grin was still in place, Severus saw a single tear escaping through his eyelashes, dripping onto his knee. Lupin wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and did not give away that he was even aware of his short weakness when he looked at Severus, smiling normally again, though warmly, extremely warmly. "You have no idea what that means to me."

Severus did have an idea. And he knew why Lupin had been overcome with emotion, unable, for a moment, to keep his cheerful mask in place. "Odd somehow …" said Severus and Lupin gave him an inquisitive look. "You said that our extraordinarily difficult lives have made us who we are. Of you it made an amiable teacher, liked by all … of me, though, well, you said it yourself, many have reason to dislike me."

"Amiable?" laughed Lupin. "Well, thank you very much. But I think compared to you even Minerva would pass as amiable."

Yes, Severus thought, the moment was definitely over. As though it had never happened at all. And it annoyed him. His face darkened before he could prevent it. As if Lupin would ever want to – as if anyone would …

"I'm sorry, Severus," said Lupin, frowning, "I did not mean to offend you."

Severus shook his head with a sneer. "You are right," he said simply, "nobody would call me amiable. I don't mind."

Lupin smiled a little and picked up the tin of tea, looking at it as he turned it between his fingers. His reflection was distorted by its round, golden surface. He sighed. "By the way," he said, looking at Severus with that warm smile, "I said that I like to be liked, but _your_ liking is most valuable to me."

At first, Severus was too surprised and embarrassed to reply, then he cleared his throat and tried to cover it up by putting on a mock haughty look and applying a mock serious tone. "It should be," he said silkily, trying not to appear too flattered, "as it is very rare, and hard-earned."

The werewolf chuckled huskily and Severus wished he would never stop. Lupin liked to be liked by Severus. And it was most satisfying that Severus's liking was most important to him. For now it didn't even matter that Lupin knew that Severus harboured a liking for him, even though it was probably better kept a secret. Lupin's liking was most valuable to Severus, too, after all, and did feel like proof that Severus was better than he believed, that there was something about him that deserved Lupin's liking.

The fireplace was empty, yet it was warm beside Lupin. Pleasant. All of this was pleasant. Severus looked at their knees, not even an inch apart. He wondered if he should move his leg just a little to the left as if accidentally, like he had done with his hand the other day. He would feel the werewolf's warmth stream into his body again. Should he dare?

But he had no time to make up his mind because Lupin did so first. Severus wasn't sure if it had been intentional but he was glad it had happened. It was a short contact but unrivaled as of now in its intimacy. The effect was enormous. Heat shot through Severus's body, and at the same time he could barely suppress a shiver. Before Severus could indulge in it, however, Lupin moved his leg again, breaking contact, and reached for his wand on the table. The heat vanished from Severus's body at once, leaving his heart pounding embarrassingly loudly in his chest.

"Another cup of tea?" asked Lupin pleasantly, turning towards Severus with one of his sweet smiles. "It would give you an excuse to stay a little longer, so I won't get the idea that you enjoy my company."

Severus snorted, raising an eyebrow at Lupin, but he was too breathless now for a witty retort. "Why not," he said simply and when he finally popped into his mouth the chocolate Lupin had put on his saucer, he congratulated himself on the idea of giving Lupin tea.

When the sun set after felt hours of pleasant silence and occasional snippets of just as pleasant conversation, Severus bade Lupin farewell, being thanked again "for everything", whatever that meant, before he was allowed to leave and make his way to the dungeons through the dark, deserted corridors. The white tea was still on his tongue as he passed window after moonlit window, wondering how it might have been, how sweet it would have tasted if Lupin had … if they had kissed.


	12. Lesson Twelve: Blessing in Disguise

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: I hope you guys will enjoy this chapter, it might be what you've been waiting for ;). Thanks for being such a loyal reviewer, JJ! And thanks for the review from Brazil :D so great to reach people all over the world! I'll definitely keep updating.

* * *

 **Lesson Twelve: Blessing In Disguise**

 _The moment_ had certainly left its traces. The morning after his visit to Lupin's rooms, Severus could not take his eyes off the werewolf. He was watching him during breakfast. He took pleasure in watching him. Studying him. Tracing his every outline with his eyes, memorising the curve of his jaw, the pale crook of his neck, his elegant fingers. Already when Lupin had entered the Great Hall with a yawn, late for breakfast as usual, Severus's eyes had followed his every step, his every graceful movement.

Lupin never looked up but Severus was sure he noticed his eyes on him. Once in a while the werewolf would rub his neck, and a smile would creep onto his lips, quickening Severus's heartbeat. Lupin seemed a little flustered, too, knocking over a milk jug, unusually clumsy. That was a new effect Severus had on him, and he could not deny that he enjoyed it quite a lot. It made him feel irrationally smug. That he could fluster someone, Lupin on top of everything, was … new.

And Lupin's behaviour only made it harder to stop thinking about last night. After having returned to his rooms, he had lain awake in his bed for several hours until it had been well past three o'clock in the morning, until the sweet taste of the tea had disappeared from his tongue. He had wondered whether Lupin had actually wanted to kiss him. If so, why hadn't he done it? And if he had, how would it have been?

In the end, he had come to the conclusion that he should stop imagining things that would never happen. He was tired of disappointments. He had probably just mistaken a natural movement for something intentional. And still there was the uncertainty. The possibility. The hope. It was the hope that annoyed Severus most. It was a treacherous friend. It deepened the disappointment. Lessened the joy. Though he'd be grateful for any amount of joy. Even if it wasn't his own, but Lupin's.

For now, the effect the supposed almost-kiss had on Severus was rather wondrous enough. Suddenly his mind came up with thoughts and ideas that were so unfamiliar that he could have sworn he had never had them before. They revolved around Lupin being close to him, like yesterday, touching him, sharing his warmth with him. And around Lupin's sweet scent in his nose and his breath on his face and his lips on Severus's. Quite pleasant even in his mind. Shivering, Severus shook his head to clear his mind, looked at his plate and saw the reason why those thoughts usually stopped abruptly once he came across a surface that would reflect his face. The phantom warmth of Lupin's imaginary lips on his own vanished quite suddenly when Severus stared into his own cold black eyes in the gleaming golden plate. He wished he could get rid of the polished tops of tables, of the unkind surfaces of potions, windows, and mirrors.

Usually he did not mind, but today he had noticed afresh that he was not even anywhere near physically attractive. He did not even want to start listing to himself his own disadvantages, it was enough to say that they added up to an overall rather less handsome face than Lupin's advantages did. And as though that wasn't enough, he had no inner beauty to offer, either. He was rude and snarky and quite unpleasant all-round. Lupin was the opposite of all that. As if he would ever see anything more than a colleague in Severus. Definitely wishful thinking.

Still, there was Lupin's flustered behaviour. When Severus stared at Lupin, he had the feeling that the werewolf was uncomfortable with his eyes on him, as though he was feeling awkward. Severus didn't know what to think anymore. Did Lupin feel ashamed of the impulse to kiss Severus? Or had he seen something in Severus's eyes yesterday that had told him what Severus suspected, what he desired? Maybe that was why he was feeling awkward, because he didn't return that desire. But Severus preferred the idea of Lupin being afraid of his reaction, because it meant that he wasn't the only one feeling something.

It was all too much to handle for him, he had not had to think about anything like this in … no, actually he thought it had never been like this. He should just forget about it. Such hopes were foolish, not to say ridiculous. Were out of place in his mind. Finally he managed to tear his eyes away from Lupin again and decided that staring at his lips did not help in the slightest. He got up, leaving his unfinished toast behind.

Walking across the Hall, Severus tried to think of nothing at all. Least of all of an evening in the Three Broomsticks with Lupin, like McGonagall had spent, only much less collegial in Severus's case. He attempted in vain to stop the picture unfolding in his mind. He would never take Lupin out anywhere, least of all to Hogsmeade. The embarrassment it would cause him was unbearable even in his mind. Would Lupin open up like he had done yesterday? Would he lean in? Would he take Severus's hand? It was unthinkable. All of it. In public, Severus would never allow it. Nobody was to see what Lupin did to him. If the werewolf even wanted to do anything at all, it would have to be confined to their rooms.

But if Lupin didn't take the first step in that respect Severus wouldn't, either. It would remain undone. He could not risk rejection, humiliation. What if Lupin was disgusted, amused or – worst of all – what if he pitied Severus for his silly desire? Severus did not want to be pitied for something like this. He wanted to be … well, it was quite ridiculous but –

His train of thought was interrupted when he heard footsteps approaching him. He recognised the walk as Lupin's. It brought back _the moment_ : the moment when Lupin had – or had not – leant in to kiss him. And now Lupin was walking towards him across the Entrance Hall and Severus didn't notice at all how he straightened his back, trying to make himself taller to look more impressive.

"Good morning, Severus," said Lupin and Severus thought he sounded a little breathless. Severus nodded at him when he stopped beside him. "Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?" asked Lupin then, smiling at Severus. The question made Severus's heart skip a beat when he thought about what he wished he could talk about to Lupin.

"What gave you that idea?" he asked, and his mouth was quite dry as he let his eyes wander over Lupin's face.

The werewolf shrugged. "You were looking at me during breakfast, weren't you?" he said mildly. "I thought there might be a reason for that. Apart from my tremendously good looks." Severus felt caught in the act, but Lupin was chuckling, had apparently only wanted to make a joke. His chuckle died when he noticed Severus's scowl.

Severus raised an eyebrow at him. "It would be far more interesting to learn why you didn't look up even though you noticed my eyes on you," he said silkily. Lupin didn't answer but rubbed his neck, looking uncomfortable again. It was intriguing.

"You coming to tea again tonight?" asked Lupin quietly, stepping closer to Severus. Severus started when Lupin laid his hand quite unexpectedly into the small of his back. The intimate touch made him feel hot and his heart pounded faster than ever. He wished that Lupin's hand would stay there forever.

Looking at Lupin, Severus felt a strong urge, an urgent desire to run his fingers over the faint scar on Lupin's jaw. But before he had even raised his hand, he stopped dead, catching a glimpse of his own reflection in Lupin's amber eyes. As if Lupin would want to be touched by him like that. He would surely flinch away if Severus's fingers touched his skin. Coincidences and misinterpretations had misled Severus into hoping for something that could not be there. He grew angry at the thought. Friendship was all he could expect from this amiable fool, nothing more. He had been deluded into thinking that Lupin wanted more. And now there he was, with desires and thoughts that cost him both pride and dignity and would humiliate him should Lupin find out about them.

In his anger, Severus batted Lupin's hand away. "Don't!" he hissed and the werewolf flinched uncharacteristically, his face falling. Without another word, Severus turned on his heel and strode towards the dungeons, leaving Lupin behind.

For the rest of the day, Severus went back to his old strategy of avoiding Lupin, trying to suffocate those inappropriate thoughts and feelings that had bloomed inside him, but they proved to be very stubborn, more like weeds than flowers. So as to grant them not even the faintest ray of sunlight, Severus turned on his heel every time he saw the werewolf and ignored him when he called after him. It was a huge step in the wrong direction, at least that was what his feelings told him. But his mind knew, just knew, that putting an end to this relationship now while it was still possible was the right thing to do. He did not want to ignore Lupin, felt the loss of his presence painfully, but he was also unwilling to look into his amber eyes again and see that he had hurt him, seriously hurt him this time. He wasn't quite up to facing him, he was feeling ashamed. And now he had probably forfeited all the chances that might have existed to receive even more intimacy from the werewolf. And he needed that intimacy so much, now that he'd felt it. Ah, those weeds, growing and growing no matter how many times he tore them out of his chest.

He had known that he would ruin it. As his anger ceased, Severus started wondering whether so many coincidences were even possible, Lupin's search for closeness for example, the touching of fingers now and then, the contact of their knees, the hand on his back. Then he thought that Lupin was probably just the type for that sort of affection, that it didn't have anything to do with Severus at all. But had he ever touched anyone else? Minerva or Flitwick? Severus couldn't recall that he had. It would have been easiest to just ask him, but Severus wasn't capable of that, it was not easy to him. And what would he say, anyway? He didn't have any words. Legilimency was a possibility … but that would be wrong. He could barely believe that he cared about that, but he did, so he couldn't look into the werewolf's mind by force, either. And as hard as he tried, he could not kill the liking and the desire he felt for Lupin. His situation was desperate.

He was still brooding in the dead of night, patrolling the corridors on the lookout for curfew breakers. Due to his extraordinarily bad mood, Severus hoped to come across some students out of bed, so he could hand out detentions. Someone to bully … but that made him think of Lupin's disapproving face. It was no use to deny it, Severus was reminded of Lupin wherever he went, whatever he thought about, wherever he looked. Even the shafts of pale moonlight that fell through the gothic windows, illuminating stripes of his path, made him think of Lupin, when they had been nothing but light once.

Swearing under his breath, Severus passed a tapestry that was hiding a staircase and stopped in his tracks when he heard a noise from behind it. He swiftly slipped into the staircase and peered through the darkness, wand at the ready. Then he saw the outline of a tall, thin form at the top of the stairs, making its way down towards Severus, who ascended a few steps, skipping the one that vanished when treaded. Severus raised his wand.

"Stop!" he snapped, and the tip of his wand lit up as he thought ' _Lumos'_. However, the person did not stop and was too far away from Severus for the wand-light to reach them. "Who's there?"

The person stopped and then very suddenly started down the stairs again much faster than before.

"I said stop!" Severus repeated more loudly this time and the light of his wand finally fell on the person's face. It was Lupin.

"Severus!" called the werewolf, never slowing his pace, and Severus took a step back to prevent a collision. Just after his brain had sent the order to move to his foot, he realised that the next step was the vanishing one and tried to hop over it, waving his arms wildly to keep his balance. But it was too late. Severus stumbled and his leg sank into the step quite painfully. He was stuck.

Severus groaned. Did something like this have to happen in front of Lupin of all people, the one person who was not supposed to see him like this? Severus resisted the urge to hide his face in his hands but he felt that he was flushing with embarrassment. Fortune was obviously not very fond of him today. The only good thing was that it was dark and the light from their wands was pale. Lupin's steps slowed again and he stopped for a moment when he realised what had happened to Severus only to descend to the step above the vanishing one and crouch down to be on eyelevel with Severus.

"Severus," he said hoarsely and Severus could not meet his eyes, "are you all right?"

Severus rolled his eyes at Lupin's guilty tone. "Do I _look_ all right, Lupin?" he snarled, very well aware of the fact that the reason why Lupin had not slowed down was that he had wanted to talk to him and probably feared that he would run away again. Angry more at himself than at the werewolf, Severus struggled to free himself from this awkward situation. When he realised it was in vain, he looked darkly at Lupin, who simply sat there, staring at Severus with a frown. "This is all your fault! You could at least go ahead and help me out of here!" Severus growled and tried not to let on that he was in considerable pain.

"Of course," said Lupin thoughtfully but didn't move an inch.

Severus grew angrily impatient and wanted to shake Lupin. "Well, what are you waiting for?" he snarled. "Do you want me to stay here like this all night?"

Lupin snapped out of what seemed to have been the deepest of thoughts and shook his head, giving Severus a forebodingly apologetic look. As though he was about to do something that Severus would not like at all. "Certainly not all night, maybe just a few more minutes …" he said slowly and Severus stared at him in indignant confusion. "Ah, you see, this vanishing step is a gift from the gods: you cannot run away from me now, you have to listen."

Severus was dumbstruck. That Lupin was too mischievous for his own good. But he was right, Severus could not move. He could not run away from the conversation he had dreaded. But he did not know if he had dreaded it because he believed that it would end in strife or because he recoiled before his own feelings for the werewolf. Lupin's face told him plainly that now was the moment he would tell him how very disappointed he was in him and that he regretted ever having thought they could become –

"I'm sorry," said the werewolf unexpectedly, startling Severus thoroughly. Why in Merlin's name was he apologising? "If I've said or … or done anything that angered you, I want to apologise and I hope that we can forget about it. After all, I still have so much of your tea left, and I can hardly drink it all without you."

Severus was stunned. He felt very uncomfortable being apologised to by Lupin even though _he_ was the one who must have offended the werewolf. "Why on earth do you think that you have angered me?" he asked incredulously and Lupin raised his eyebrows in astonishment.

"I don't know," he said and sounded uncertain for the first time since he had arrived at Hogwarts. "I thought maybe you didn't like to be touched by me or … well … but you didn't mind …?"

Severus shook his head, considering Lupin's concerned face with great curiosity, though his leg was throbbing with pain. "It was not you who angered me."

Lupin sighed in obvious relief and rubbed his neck again with a smile. Could it be that he had indeed been worried that Severus had noticed his movement yesterday, the almost-kiss? Could it be that Lupin had feared that Severus was disgusted? Or was that Severus's wishful thinking again? Anyway, it seemed as though Lupin had wasted much thought on the matter. On Severus.

"So you'll come to tea again?" Lupin said quietly. "I don't want to drink it alone or with anybody other than you. It's much more enjoyable with you."

Severus considered him for a moment, searching for words. Enjoyable. That from Lupin's mouth … Severus cursed his stomach for feeling fuzzy. It was all too good to be true. But … "Why aren't you angry at me?" asked Severus suspiciously. "You would have all reason."

Lupin gave him one of those sweet smiles and looked at him almost fondly. "You are difficult, Severus," he said with a husky chuckle and Severus felt his stomach swooping again. Indeed, Lupin sounded rather wistful as he said it. Almost as though Lupin found Severus's being difficult was one of the things he particularly liked about him. "If I got angry at you every time you behaved like today, I wouldn't be able to live peacefully. Of course I'd like to understand why you avoided me …"

He gave Severus a questioning look and his amber eyes, twinkling in the wand-light, became that special kind of piercing that Severus had by now learnt to associate with being seen through. Averting his eyes to give Lupin only the smallest possible chance of finding the answer to his question, Severus cleared his throat and wished he were somewhere else now, somewhere where there was no vanishing step and his leg was not hurting and he could walk away from Lupin. "It does not matter …" he said and the lie was so audible in his voice that he could as well have told the werewolf the truth.

"I see, well," said Lupin and Severus looked up at him again. Lupin's eyebrows were elevated. "If you don't want to tell I will not press you for an answer."

Quite intriguing. Severus saw in Lupin's eyes the urgent desire to press him for the truth, and yet, the werewolf did not say anything more. He respected Severus and his wish not to reveal the truth. Letting his eyes roam Lupin's face, Severus took in his rather unflawed features, disturbed only by that little faded scar on his jaw. The milky white skin glowed in the light coming from their wands and the greying hair that fell into his forehead, looking quite soft, gleamed like honey, framing his face. Lupin looked rather peaceful, serene, and there was a warm light in his golden eyes, giving them the look of fluid caramel. They were quite beautiful. And Lupin was indeed quite handsome. Severus had, for the first time, the impression that those old, patched robes hanging around Lupin's thin frame, were indeed actually purple and ermine, and he no longer felt as though he was the only one who could not see all there was to Lupin. He could not believe his own thoughts, but Lupin appeared more regal and dignified than he could ever hope to be. It made Lupin incredibly desirable. And now more than ever Severus wished Lupin had kissed him last night.

Averting his eyes again quickly, Severus hoped that Lupin had not seen that thought in them. But the wish was strong in him now. It was burning on his lips. There was a strange contradictory feeling in him, an impulse to get away from Lupin and a wish to stay in his presence forever. He knew which was stronger. "So you … you wish to continue this … relationship?" asked Severus awkwardly.

"Relationship?" smiled Lupin, raising his eyebrows still higher. He looked as though he was pleased with the term Severus had chosen to describe their connection.

"Well, yes," growled Severus in embarrassment, "or how would you describe it – apart from unlikely and annoying? Whatever you call it I, for my part, have resigned myself to the unfortunate circumstance of its existence."

"Unfortunate …" muttered Lupin absently before the effect of Severus's words kicked in. And it was ridiculously strong. Lupin's smile widened and he looked like the epitome of happiness. Apparently, Severus had looked into his eyes for a moment too long. He knew that he would not get out of this. But at least Lupin wasn't worried anymore. And the happiness suited him, even more so because Severus was the reason for it.

"And there I was, thinking that you did not want my friendship, after all," Lupin muttered, smiling that warm, sweet smile that was only for Severus. But this time it made Severus's stomach churn and it pierced him somewhere deep in his chest as he realised that what lay hidden behind Lupin's smile was so different from what he had been suspecting. His friendship? It sounded quite innocent as he said it, quite like a boy talking to his classmate. All hope for more drained from Severus and he felt quite miserable. _Dunderheaded fool_ , he scolded himself, _you shouldn't have hoped at all_.

"You were right," said Severus quietly, feeling more defiant than he cared to admit, and he avoided Lupin's eyes to conceal it, "I don't want your friendship." _But if being your friend is what I have to do to be able to be close to you, I shall be it. If friendship is all I can receive from you, then I shall take it with appreciation._ He wished he could say it, if only to let the werewolf know what he felt. Even if he did not quite understand it himself, he had a feeling Lupin would. But he couldn't get out a word and he hoped Lupin knew why. He was afraid. Even though he wished that Lupin wanted more than mere friendship, he would never take the first step in that particular direction. He had already done more than was typical of him.

But when he caught a glimpse of Lupin's hurt look, he realised that the werewolf could not understand. He seemed like somebody who was never afraid of emotions or their consequences. Two so different could not possibly understand each other. And probably a continuation or deepening of their relationship could only end in disaster. As an attempt to get out of this uncomfortable situation, Severus struggled to free himself from his painful prison, and this time Lupin got to his feet and seized his arm, warming it through the fabric of Severus's robes, and pulled to help him without saying another word.

It wasn't easy to get out of the trap, with no banister and little else to hold onto. Even more so because Severus felt an embarrassed reluctance to hold on to Lupin too firmly. An accident was guaranteed. Consequently, of course, Lupin slipped off the edge of the step he was standing on when Severus lost balance, and with a yelp of pain he fell against Severus, whose leg went all the way back down into the vanished step, Severus's wand clattering down the stairs.

Severus stifled a cry when his head collided with the wall, and he tried to control his anger as he opened his mouth to tell Lupin how much of a clumsy dunderhead he was. But he never got to say it because he registered suddenly that Lupin's warmth was pressing against him, and the first thing he saw when he opened his watering eyes was the werewolf's face barely an inch from his own and a pair of golden eyes shining through the darkness which now engulfed them. There was a strange light in them that Severus had never seen there before. Or in any other pair of eyes looking at him.

Lupin was so close to him that Severus could feel his warm breath on his face and smell his sweet scent all around him. Finally he could inhale it and he closed his eyes in involuntary but wonderful enjoyment. It was licorice. And chocolate, mixed with white tea. But the scent Severus had been chasing those past weeks was licorice. And Lupin must have known all along that Severus would like it. The warmth Lupin spread through his body was pleasant. When had he last been this close to anyone? And could they compare to Lupin? The pleasure Severus felt was making him forget where they were, who they were, he just never wanted this moment to end. His senses were alive with Lupin.

That qualified as _too_ close.

"Are you hurt?" Severus asked, making an effort to sound especially unfriendly to conceal his pleasure, but he just ended up sounding breathless.

"No," Lupin answered but made no move to get up. He simply gazed at Severus. Severus tried to look away but his eyes would not comply, so he held Lupin's intent gaze.

"Then why don't you get off me and we try again?" he suggested in an embarrassingly weak voice.

"It must be fate," said Lupin suddenly, quite unrelated, and he brushed his nose against Severus's. Severus did not know whether it had been intentional or not but he tensed immediately, unsure what to feel. Unsettled or pleased. His heartbeat quickened.

"Wh-what do you mean?" stammered Severus and could have slapped himself for losing his head. But he couldn't help it, his voice wasn't the only part of him that wouldn't obey him. This was the intimacy that Severus had felt between them before, the intimacy he had relished and wanted to increase while being oddly but reasonably afraid of it. And now that it was cornering him, now that it was staring him in the face unconcealed, it was making him nervous and uncertain. He was feeling unbearably hot and his head was light and his stomach so fuzzy it almost hurt. He couldn't think clearly.

"What I mean is … I've been wanting to do this – almost would have – but I was too timid in the end. Thought that you had noticed, that you were avoiding me because of it," said Lupin quietly. "And now fate has literally thrown me on you. Or wouldn't you call it fate?"

 _I would call it clumsiness_ , Severus thought but his lips would not utter the words to destroy the situation. He swallowed hard as he felt Lupin's hands on the wall either side of his head more than seeing them. The only thing he could make out in the dark were the werewolf's bright eyes, filled with … but that couldn't be. Who would look at Severus like that? And yet, that annoying spark of hope inside him made his heart pound ever faster and he was sure Lupin could hear it by now. Not even Severus could hide the sound of his own treacherous heartbeat. It annoyed him that he had no means of preventing Lupin from seeing through him now, and at the same time it was strengthening the hope inside him. This wretched hope! And his hope frightened him as he realised that Lupin was indeed quite close. He should not hope, he should not want this.

"What exactly did you want to do?" Severus whispered and Lupin's hot breath on his face was driving him crazy.

Suddenly there was a warm smile in Lupin's eyes and it was accompanied by that strange expression which was so unfathomable. Lupin hummed and the sound made Severus shiver pleasurably. He could not control his body's reactions. It just happened. There was something in Lupin's expression that wiped Severus's mind blank. Or maybe it was his body so close to him, or his sweet scent or his warm breath. Or everything about him.

"With your permission, Severus …" said Lupin very hoarsely and in addition to a kind of impatient anticipation there was a good deal of amused mischievousness seeping into his voice. The sound of it made Severus shiver once again.

And though Severus hardly dared believe it, it happened before he could even start to be afraid of it. Suddenly he saw the amber eyes no more but felt a warm, gentle hand on his cheek, and Severus knew what to expect next but still when it happened it was quite unreal, like knowing to be dreaming before becoming aware with a start that one was actually awake: their lips brushed. The contact made by Lupin was quite careful, almost as if afraid, almost tentative. When he met no resistance, he pressed his warm lips more demandingly against Severus's, whose mind was wiped blank by the sensation and further away from rejecting the werewolf than he could ever have imagined. Quite the contrary, as soon as he regained control of himself, after the initial shock, he indulged in the kiss Lupin bestowed on him by responding deliberately, eagerly.

His heart was pounding so hard that Severus heard it in his ears, his body was feeling hotter than he could remember ever having felt in his life. Trying to keep his brain working, to keep himself from falling into blissful oblivion, Severus threaded his fingers through the werewolf's hair, and Lupin appeared to be feeling encouraged, becoming increasingly passionate, pressing up to Severus, who felt all sensible thought leave him when there was a flutter of eyelashes against his cheek and fingers digging into his robes and soft hair brushing his nose.

Finally giving up all control, Severus let himself fall into the sea of Remus's – yes _Remus's_ – licorice scent and the warmth radiating from him, feeling like a shelter from the dark and cold staircase almost as though they had left it. He did not even feel the icy stone against his body anymore, nor the pain in his leg, as Remus shifted his head and parted his lips, deepening the kiss and making Severus shiver with hot pleasure. Remus moaned as Severus opened his mouth and the vibration of his voice was bliss. The taste of tea and chocolate invaded Severus as he pulled Remus even closer to make sure he would not pull back too soon.

And indeed, whenever Severus feared that Remus might stop, the werewolf surprised him by never breaking contact but simply placing another kiss. Somehow Severus even failed to wonder why Remus would ever want to kiss him, to be kissed by him. He forgot to feel embarrassed of his situation and ashamed of his lacking skill or the pungent smell of today's potions on every inch of his body. He'd never felt anything like this. Severus's heart pounded so fast that he was sure it was going to explode. Everything around them had disappeared and it was as if time had stopped. They wasted not a second on worrying that somebody might enter the staircase and find them like this any second. The warm sensation of each other's lips and arms and everything was too good to care about anything else.

Severus feared the moment when they would be out of breath and hoped for it never to arrive. But it did, and when Remus finally broke the kiss, which he did quite slowly, touching Severus for as long as he could before their lips left each other, he took all the warmth and pleasure with him as suddenly as he had brought them and Severus was left cold and in pain and longing to touch the werewolf again. It was frustrating. Severus thought about pulling Remus close again but didn't and instead waited for his reaction, feeling the bliss and the pleasure falling slowly but steadily away from him until they were only unreal memories, almost as though they'd never actually filled his chest.

But there was an everlasting, all-too-real imprint on his soul, left by the kiss Severus had so longed for, that remained as proof that Bliss and Pleasure had indeed visited his body, if only for a short time. And now that they had left, Wonder took their place.

Though Remus was still close, it just wasn't the same. Severus wanted the warmth back and the scent and the taste. He wanted to escape from this desolate hallway and his awkward situation once more. As he heard Remus pant rather than feeling it, he wondered whether the werewolf already regretted having kissed him or if he just didn't know what to do next. Why was he so far away? Severus wanted him to stay close to him. His hand moved of its own accord into the direction where he could make out Remus's outline and his fingers touched the threadbare fabric of Remus's robes but he did not seize it. Courage left him when the golden eyes reappeared in the darkness, and the light from Remus's wand lit up again to illuminate the situation and make Severus shy away from his own feelings as though the darkness had been a cover for something he had to be ashamed of in the light.

Remus cocked his head to one side and Severus dropped his eyes to his smiling lips as the werewolf raised a hand to caress Severus's cheek. It was gentle and warm. Nothing to be ashamed of even in the light. Severus let out the breath that he hadn't even noticed he was holding. So Remus didn't regret it, after all. But still there was this distance between them making Severus feel colder by the minute when Remus withdrew his hand.

"So …" Remus whispered huskily, and sounded as though he had just realised that what he had done had been rather bold and could as well have ended in bloodshed, "you … didn't complain … or slap me. I suppose it was all right?"

Severus snorted, more relieved than amused. "It was … more than all right," he said breathlessly and felt a little embarrassed by his own frankness. He wanted to grasp Remus's warmth with his fingers but couldn't and felt colder still. He had never noticed how cold he usually was. Remus's presence was agonising: Severus felt everything in his reach that he wanted to be enveloped in but couldn't – wouldn't force Remus to give to him.

"That's a relief … It's been a while since I last kissed anyone," said Remus with some oddly nonchalant embarrassment that came unexpectedly to Severus.

"I didn't notice," muttered Severus truthfully and earned an extremely husky chuckle. Why didn't Remus just kiss him again? Why didn't Severus just lean in, show him he wanted more? It seemed that Remus had acted on the spur of the moment, and now the moment was over they were both too timid.

And in any case, it was too late. Remus pushed himself off the wall and got to his feet. Severus heaved a sigh, quite exhausted by everything that had happened and quite disappointed that it was already over. When Remus held out his hand to pull him out of the step, he became very aware of the pain in his leg again. He reached for Remus's forearm but let his fingers slide down to firmly grasp Remus's hand instead, and this time they succeeded in freeing him from his miserable situation. Severus rubbed his leg when he was finally standing beside Remus, who raised his lit wand and stooped to recover Severus's.

"Here you are," the werewolf said and handed it to Severus.

As Severus took it, their fingers touched and he looked into those golden eyes and again his senses were alive with Remus and Remus only. His knees grew wobbly and he staggered a little, blaming it on his stinging leg. Remus's arm was round his waist at once to steady him. Severus felt the sudden urge to kiss him again but he was afraid to give in to it. Reason and reality had caught up with him.

"Better be careful, Severus, or you'll fall down the stairs," Remus said quietly, eyes never leaving Severus's. "Would you like me to take you to the hospital wing?"

Severus shook his head. He didn't want to break contact again, even if that meant staying in this staircase forever. _How ridiculously sentimental_ , he thought, but just for now he didn't care.

"It is fine, I'll live." He let his fingers ghost over Remus's neck and jaw, finally tracing the faint scar that had always caught his eye, and the werewolf closed his eyes in obvious enjoyment. "Stupid, something like this happening to me," he whispered, not quite sure if he meant falling into the step or his feelings for Remus.

"I'm glad it happened," Remus replied, looking up at him with a hint of the old mischief in his eyes.

"I have no doubt about that," said Severus smoothly. "I wonder, what if it had happened to you and I were to say I was glad of it?"

"Then I'd still be stuck …" said Remus with a smile, "because you would have walked away without helping me. And we wouldn't have kissed."

Severus swallowed. Saying it out loud like that … "That might just be true."

Remus smiled warmly, raised the hand he had laid round Severus's waist and pressed it to Severus's chest, over his heart, which was still pounding fast. Severus closed his eyes, his heartbeat slowing down. The werewolf slid his hand down his chest, then he laid it into the back of his neck, beneath his long hair, stepping closer until their bodies were pressed up against each other again and this time there was no doubt about the fact that he was leaning in to –

But suddenly there were footsteps downstairs and the two of them started, stepping quickly away from each other, raising their wands. Severus swore to Merlin that he'd hex the person the feet belonged to into the next week. But the footsteps passed the tapestry and disappeared. Severus glanced at the werewolf, whose golden eyes were shining up at him, reflecting the wand-light, full of regret.

"We'd better resume our patrolling, Severus," he whispered and Severus nodded, though he'd rather have neglected that duty in favour of only one more kiss, or a mere peck on the lips, really. Anything to bring back the warmth, anything to feel Remus, to make it real to him that they shared this kind of intimacy. Remus stepped closer again, resting his hands on Severus's shoulders, pressing his soft lips against his cheek. They left a warm, tingling sensation behind when Remus withdrew to smile at him. "Goodnight," he said and turned to make his way upstairs. Severus watched him leave until the darkness swallowed him. Suddenly he was freezing and wrapped his robes more tightly around his body.

While he was prowling the corridors, the moonlight falling in through the windows, he touched his mouth now and again, remembering the sensation of Remus's soft lips on his. They had really kissed, hadn't they? And all thanks to that blasted vanishing step. It was wondrous. Indeed like a foggy illusion becoming solid. He stopped at one of the windows, leaning against the wall, a smile spreading over his face. Bliss returned to his body, pushing all worries out of the way. A bliss caused by the shadow of Remus's lips on his.


	13. Lesson Thirteen: Forbearance

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: Next update's gonna be on Friday next week :).

* * *

 **Lesson Thirteen: Forbearance**

Severus felt refreshed in an unknown way as he opened his eyes in the morning, squinting in the sunlight that was falling into his bedroom. Glancing at his alarm clock, he made no move to get up even though it was almost noon. He stretched his arms over his head and groaned, regretting that he had woken from so sweet a dream. Heaving a sigh, Severus let his arms flop onto the mattress. A dream that had featured so sweet a kiss. Severus shifted and suddenly a throbbing pain came to life in his leg as though it had lain dormant there, waiting for movement to wake it. It shot right up his spine into his head and he hissed, clutching his thigh as he sat up. After the initial agony, he stared at his leg in astonishment. Not a dream, then? Reality? Incredible.

Severus touched his fingers to his lips and closed his eyes, remembering how it had felt to be kissed by Remus. A tingling sensation spread through his body. He couldn't recall any sensation that had ever made him feel better. Smiling slightly, he threw his blanket off himself and jumped out of bed in some exhilaration. His leg stung, his head ached, and his back felt stiff, but that could not affect his mood. The best mood he had been in for years, decades maybe. The bruises had been worth it.

After having taken a shower, Severus strolled upstairs into the Great Hall and he even looked forward to meeting Remus again after last night. And indeed, Remus was there, as one of the last teachers, readingthe _Daily Prophet_ and eating his scrambled eggs quite slowly. Severus was very late. He had arrived even later than the werewolf, who always slept in. When he approached his usual seat at the High Table, McGonagall, who was sitting with Remus, waved at him and beckoned him closer.

"Severus, come sit with us, it is nonsense to isolate yourself," she said and sounded quite as imperious as usual. Severus hesitated for a moment but then complied. The temptation of sitting close to Remus was too strong.

Remus looked up from his paper with a smile and was quite his usual self despite the kiss. "Good morning, Severus," he said cheerfully and Severus thought he heard a question in his voice. He inclined his head and sat down on McGonagall's other side, trying to behave as usual.

"We were wondering why you weren't at breakfast," said McGonagall and Severus saw Remus rubbing his neck. "Remus was already suspecting that you did not want to see him – he didn't want to tell me why, though."

Severus gave Remus a sidelong glance. "Nothing of the sort, I merely overslept," he said simply, and heard Remus let out the breath he'd apparently been holding.

"Did you have an especially nice dream?" McGonagall asked with a wink at Remus, who grinned. Severus's mouth twitched. It hadn't been a dream, no, but it could easily have been the nicest he'd ever had.

"I hardly think my dreams are of your concern," replied Severus smoothly, "it was my turn to patrol the corridors last night."

"It was Remus's turn, too," McGonagall said, "but he was down as early as me, and eating more slowly than I have ever seen anyone eat."

Severus scowled at her, which was much harder while he was in a good mood. "Well, then why don't you badger him about his reasons, and leave me in peace," he retorted to end the conversation.

"Could it be that you two met last night?" asked McGonagall suspiciously and Severus rolled his eyes.

"What gives you that idea?" asked Remus in a very innocent voice that McGonagall must have heard many times before during his time as a student at Hogwarts.

"It seems you have both hurt your legs, Severus limped to the table and you've been moving very gingerly all morning," she said shrewdly. "I thought maybe you got into some kind of fight and don't want to let Dumbledore know …"

Severus snorted. "If that was the case, we wouldn't both be sitting here," he said silkily, "one of us would be lying dead on the floor somewhere."

"If it had been me you would probably have got rid of my body already with some kind of potion," said Remus conversationally, not even looking up from his paper, "I'm sure you have something in your stores that would allow you to perform the perfect murder."

"You might just be right," said Severus, watching him with indecent pleasure. He liked his wit. He liked the way his jaw moved when he chewed. How silly. "You would never be found. Maybe I would pickle parts of you and keep them in my office to remind me of my great deed."

Remus chuckled and his golden eyes looked up to find Severus's, some very fetching light shining in them. "That's quite a romantic thought, in quite a weird way," he said and his voice was on the verge of sounding wistful. Severus stared at him and was quite shocked how much that remark pleased him. McGonagall stared from one to the other of them, quite startled.

"You are scaring me, the both of you," she said and Remus laughed huskily, which improved Severus's mood even further.

"We are just joking around a little," said Remus and finally cleared his plate. "Well, I still have a lot to prepare for my next lesson, I wish you both a very nice day." With a wink at McGonagall and a smile at Severus, Remus left the Hall, treading quite gingerly, indeed. The last night had apparently left its traces on them both.

Severus wondered if he should pay the werewolf a visit later today. He certainly wanted to. Another kiss of that quality would be pure bliss. The memory had already started to grow faint, Remus's scent and his sweet taste, his body warmth seeping into Severus, his soft lips. Severus could still feel the tingling in his cheek where Remus's lips had been, but somehow it wasn't as clear as it had been last night. It was as if he were feeling it through a layer of fabric. He missed it already. And Remus seemed too busy for a visit. Severus had a lot to prepare for his lessons, too. He stabbed his egg with his fork, deep in thought, when a hand appeared before his eyes, being waved up and down.

Severus snapped out of his thoughts and looked round at McGonagall, who smiled at him with a raised eyebrow. "I'm not used to seeing you absentminded like this. That really must have been a nice dream," she said and got up, leaving him behind in the empty Hall.

Yes. A blissful dream.

And that was what it remained. It was not that Severus didn't try to get closer to Remus, but whenever he was about to talk to him somebody would interfere. Their eyes would meet across corridors, halls, or rooms and they would approach each other subtly only to find somebody jumping in-between them to talk to one or the other of them. Granger was most annoying, she kept popping up out of nowhere to badger Remus with questions about homework or classes or whatever she could come up with and Severus would have to retreat unnoticed, grumbling to himself. His only comfort was that Remus looked equally regretful.

Severus blamed the feelings that now haunted him on this frustrated tension. His stomach felt fuzzier than ever and every time he thought about the hidden staircase and the kiss a surge of some very pleasant but very strange emotion gripped his whole body, forcing him to smile. He shivered now and then when his mind drifted upstairs to the werewolf's office. So Severus decided to visit him, but when minutes of work turned into hours and one o'clock turned into seven, he still hadn't finished brewing several potions which needed surveillance. His mood dropped gradually, and after the sun had set and neither he nor Remus had visited each other, Severus cleaned up his lab and retired to his rooms, worn and depressed. He scolded himself for feeling like that about something so unreal, so out of the ordinary, something that he should be grateful for having experienced once. Who knew if there would be a repetition? Who knew when there would be another kiss, or if? He should be happy that he had this memory to dwell on. And he should be happy that he wasn't forced or forcing himself to deny that it had happened. It was too extraordinary to deny it. Too pleasant. There was not a grain of regret or shame in him.

But the memory of the kiss had become even fainter and, try as he might, Severus couldn't stop wishing for just one touch of the werewolf's fingers, one whiff of his licorice scent, or one tiny little brushing of his lips against his cheek, which would bring it back to him in vivid clarity. But no werewolf was anywhere near and Severus doubted that he would show up so late in the evening, so he let himself fall onto his sofa with a glass of wine and, with a last attempt at resistance, gave in to the longing that presented him with the pleasant memory of what had happened in the dark staircase. He didn't even notice when he drifted off to sleep, for his dreams were very similar to his thoughts.

Those dreams remained the only pleasure Severus could indulge in for the time being, as the week was very busy, indeed. The hospital wing demanded a list of all kinds of complicated and time-consuming potions, the homework he had given his classes had turned out so catastrophic that Severus was close to despair, and to top it all off Severus's new so-called Potions-NEWT course had disappointed his expectations in their essays on the exact preparation, use, and antidotes of Veritaserum, not to speak of their attempts at brewing it. So, of course, Severus had to punish them thoroughly, telling them that he'd throw three quarters of them out of his course if they didn't improve considerably, setting them another work-intensive essay on the love potion Amortentia, and making them brew it under great pressure. Only two of them were acceptable. But when their fumes filled the air, Severus was back in the hidden staircase again, much closer to Remus than ever before, breathing in his scent, chocolate, tea, _licorice_. He would almost have moaned, closing his eyes to the scent, if the bell hadn't rung, calling him back to the desolate reality of the lonely dungeon, full of the fumes of failed potions.

Severus's desire to talk to the werewolf grew steadily and it was agonising to see him at meals and to pass him in the corridors, where he only received smiles which made his longing even worse. The staffroom was like a torture chamber with Remus being so close but no opportunity to speak to him in private. On Wednesday, when Severus was seated in the armchair by the fireplace, Remus bustled in, his hands full of papers he apparently had to grade, and when he approached Severus and caught his eye, he dropped them all, stumbling. Severus shook his head at him with a smirk and waved his wand to sweep up the papers and place them onto the table in a neat stack.

"Unusually clumsy today, aren't you, Lupin?" he sneered, leaning back in his armchair. He liked to imagine that he was the reason why the usually deft and concentrated werewolf was so clumsy today.

"Thank you, Severus," panted Remus and sat down on one of the old chairs at the table. "I forgot to grade these. Or rather, I nodded off over them." He chuckled huskily and Severus shivered again, closing his eyes. "And by the by … My clumsiness served me quite well the other night, wouldn't you agree?" Remus whispered only for Severus to hear and Severus stared at his turned back. He suspected that there was a mischievous smile on the werewolf's face right now. He didn't reply, though, just stared, remembering that Remus had felt very warm when he had been pressed up against him. Severus shook his head, scolding himself for thinking of things that increased his longing. He obviously spent too much time with Gryffindor dunderheads like Albus, McGonagall, or, well, Remus.

At that moment, McGonagall entered the room to sit down next to Remus with a sigh, loosening her collar and complaining about the heat. To Severus it couldn't be warm enough – he shifted as far to the right as he could without anyone noticing to feel the werewolf's warmth. He had grown addicted to him much too fast.

The scratching of Remus's quill on the parchment was soothing and Severus closed his eyes to the sound, trying to relax so much that the memories would leave his mind in peace for a while. Instead they seemed to be taking advantage of this inattentive state to sneak up on him and claim his mind mercilessly. Instead of fighting them, Severus indulged despite himself and almost forgot where he was. But after a while the quill's scratching stopped and Remus cleared his throat, causing Severus to snap out of his daydream.

"If you should need me, I'll be in my rooms for a bit," he said casually, gathering up his things and McGonagall gave him a smile and a nod.

Severus wondered why Remus told them this, what he thought he might be needed for and why in all heavens he didn't want to stay here where Severus was. But Severus was lost in his daydream again too soon to ponder this much. It was unimportant compared to the other thoughts he had about Remus. And those thoughts glued Severus's eyes to Remus when the werewolf left to be in time for his next lesson, quite as graceful as ever. Severus sighed in frustration when the door closed behind him and almost wished that Remus had forgotten some of his papers so he could carry them after him, but no such luck. He couldn't bear the forced silence between them, it was positively ridiculous that they would have to keep it.

But the silence stretched, and as the days passed his mood dropped to a level which made his nastiness grow to an extent that made him unbearable to everyone in his presence. It was as if the werewolf was teasing him to create some kind of tempting tension, passing him in every possible corridor, never meeting him alone, always with one of those sweet smiles on his face. Severus felt himself missing those smiles immediately after losing sight of Remus and he was so distracted when working that he made countless mistakes and had to start potions over and over again, swearing furiously. It made him so angry that he strode through the castle only to find someone to give detention to or take points from. It was Saturday afternoon, a long week had passed without Remus's lips on Severus's. He needed to relieve that tension somehow.

And indeed, Severus was lucky and came across some first-year girls, sitting on the windowsill in an upstairs corridor, who weren't doing anything wrong but perhaps being Gryffindors. Which was enough, in his eyes, to be bullied a bit. Just after he had made them run from him, complaining about him rather loudly, he turned in a swirl of robes to find an amused werewolf standing before him, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, his hands in his pockets, a lazy smile on his lips. Severus's breath hitched and in his surprise he stepped back from him, which made the werewolf chuckle huskily. Severus had to suppress a shiver.

"Poor things," Remus said, pushing himself off the wall with his elbow. "I'm glad that I wasn't eleven when you became a teacher. I hope I'm not the reason for your bad mood?"

Severus swallowed. "In a way," he replied softly. Remus came slowly closer, frowning slightly. He looked quite handsome today. Though he did not look any different in appearance, Severus thought it must be his expression that made him so appealing today. There seemed to be some longing in his eyes that resembled the one Severus felt. How satisfying to incite such an emotion in Remus.

"I am sorry that we didn't find time to talk all week," he said quietly, shaking his hair out of his golden eyes. Severus looked out of the window for a moment, then he agreed with a curt nod. "Do we have to talk?" the werewolf asked tentatively.

Severus looked at him for a few long, enjoyable seconds, right into Remus's expectant eyes. He did not know if he wanted to talk, because whenever he talked, he tended to destroy things. And this he did not want to destroy. But … one could not simply kiss a colleague in a dark staircase without talking about what was to happen next, what it had meant, and what it was going to mean in future. At least Severus would find it rather weird to just go on from here without clearing up if it had been just a kiss, perhaps unique, or the beginning of something that would involve many more kisses. Severus thought that he would be unable to bear if it had meant nothing to Remus. Severus would never just kiss anyone like that. He would be mortified to find that Remus did. And he would not be able to go back to just being colleagues. But he could not say this. Probably a conversation would not help at all.

"I don't know," he said quietly, but he knew that that was a lie, that the conversation was, despite everything, quite necessary, so he corrected himself at once, "Yes … I believe we do. But –" he hesitated, looking furtively around before continuing, "– but not here."

Remus nodded, glancing around, too, to check if anyone was watching. He seemed relieved, as though there was quite a lot he had to say. Perhaps he was just as worried as Severus. Perhaps Severus should have visited him, after all, shown him that he wanted more. Or maybe Remus was just anxious to tell him that there wasn't going to be more. That it had been a mistake. No, no, surely not. It was still there in his eyes, the longing. And the sweet smile, when Remus looked at Severus quite calmly. "Would you like to visit me in my rooms tonight?" he asked, apparently feeling surer of himself in his own surroundings than in Severus's. "I'll make tea."

Severus gave him a curt nod and Remus stepped into his direction and made a movement with his arm which looked just like the one from a week ago when they had parted in the dark staircase, and Severus's heart raced in anticipation of the werewolf's touch, after having craved it those past days. But suddenly there were voices in the corridor, just round the corner, and Remus stepped back again, whipping his head around only to turn back to Severus, putting his hands back in his pockets with an apologetic smile. Severus's disappointment must have been displayed on his face. And though Remus had gone back to his unaffected nonchalance, there was something in his face and his slightly drawn up shoulders that told Severus that Remus was just as disappointed as he was that they had been disturbed before being able to kiss.

"So … I'll see you after dinner?" the werewolf asked softly, his hoarse voice giving away impatient anticipation. Severus nodded again, meeting his eye, silently maledicting the people the voices belonged to. Remus smiled warmly at him and held out his hand as though he absolutely needed to touch Severus, even if it was just a handshake. Severus stared at it for a second before he seized it, hungering for Remus's touch, no matter how chaste or fleeting, never wanting to let it go again. Remus's hand was hot against Severus's icy skin and with his firm but gentle grip, which felt almost intimate in its intensity, the werewolf seemed to tell him that he didn't want to let go, either. But he did, and without taking another look at him, Severus swept past him into the direction of the voices, ready to give their owners detention for too loud walking.

Once again Remus didn't appear at dinner. Severus liked to imagine that he was getting some work done now, so that he would have more time for Severus later. This thought made Severus clear his plate fast and leave the Hall early, so as to ensure that nobody would see him on his way to Remus's office. When he arrived, the scent of the white tea already filled the corridor Remus's office was situated in and strengthened the anticipation in Severus. He found the door wide open and entered unasked to find the office empty. But he heard the werewolf humming some tune and his hoarse voice, slightly off-key, was coming from the sitting room. Closing the door behind himself, Severus cleared his throat, straightened his back, and proceeded into Remus's rooms. Remus was standing at one of the windows, leaning against it, reading the _Daily Prophet_ with a crease between his eyebrows.

He looked up when Severus approached him, and at once a warm smile conquered his lips as the tune died from them. "Good evening, Severus," he said pleasantly. "Alone at last."

Severus stopped dead and tried to keep the rush of embarrassed pleasure at bay that was incited by this remark. Remus indicated the sofa to Severus who walked up to him, but instead of sitting down he took the paper from Remus's yielding hands and read the headline on the front page above the picture of the man he loathed most in the world. Really, the only satisfaction he had was that Black looked horrible. Not handsome anymore. Withered and mad. And yet, he wished he didn't have to be reminded of Black all the time, least of all in Remus's presence. He felt a painful twinge that was his dignity taking a blow. He did not want Remus to be reminded of their school days. He would surely feel much less inclined to kiss him if he remembered how weak Severus had been.

" _Escaped mass-murderer Sirius Black sighted again_ ". Severus raised an eyebrow as he read that Black was indeed drawing closer to Hogwarts and he looked at Remus, whose amber eyes seemed troubled. Tossing the paper on the coffee table, Severus sat down on the sofa at last and crossed his legs. "Don't worry about him," spat Severus, disgusted by the mere possibility that Remus's thoughts could be occupied by Black when they should be revolving around Severus. "There is no way that he could get in the castle. I have performed some of the protective spells myself and you can believe me that they are impenetrable." _Now that sounded impressive, Severus, keep it up!_ snorted a little voice in his head, sounding eager despite itself.

Remus's smile grew amused as he sat down in his armchair, but a few moments later he let it slip off his face almost without a trace. He shook his head and folded his arms over his chest, averting his eyes. Severus wondered if Remus feared his Legilimency. Didn't he know that Severus respected him too much to use it on him? Would he be pleased to know? "It is not that I doubt your skill or Dumbledore's … I just …" he said softly but trailed off as though he had lost the courage to say what he had meant to say. But Severus couldn't imagine that Remus ever lost courage no matter what or whom he was facing. Remus shifted, bringing their knees very close together. As close as they had been last time. Then he took a deep breath, still not meeting Severus's eyes. "I just think that people tend to underestimate what he is capable of. We had better not let our guard down now, no matter how good our protection. One should never make the mistake to rule out a possibility only because it seems improbable. Especially when it concerns people like him."

Severus scowled at him. Extraordinary Sirius bloody Black. He did not want Remus to talk about him like that. He knew that it wasn't admiration, but Severus thought, quite stupidly, that he was much more extraordinary in all the wrong ways, too, much more vicious, much more dangerous, much more learned in the Dark Arts, and that Remus should acknowledge it. But he had better not say something as ridiculous as that out loud. He accepted the cup of tea Remus offered him, warming his hands with it. Again he had to substitute the warmth he actually wanted even though it was right there in front of him, he just couldn't grasp it. He wished Remus would notice his longing and touch him, no matter how. They sipped on their tea at the same time and, meeting the golden eyes, Severus imagined how it would taste if they kissed now. Remus's eyelashes fluttering against his cheek, his soft hair brushing Severus's nose, his warm lips pressing against Severus's. He shivered pleasurably and was quite frustrated.

Severus set his cup down on the table, taking a deep breath to inhale as much of Remus's sweet fragrance as he could without Remus noticing. He glanced round the room, casting around for a topic to distract Remus from Black because he did not want to use the topic of their relationship for that sordid purpose. Severus's eyes drifted over the naked stone walls and the surfaces, that were still void of photographs and other personal objects. "You don't seem to be making yourself at home," he muttered and Remus followed his gaze.

"Oh, well … somehow I have a feeling that as long as I am prepared to leave, I won't have to," he replied with a chuckle in his hoarse voice. Severus raised a sceptical eyebrow and the werewolf continued. "You see … I don't want to unpack and get used to my new life only to be forced to pack again and leave it all behind. To me it's a miracle to wake up in that bed and have tea with you in this room. A gift. I don't take it for granted. Didn't get many such gifts in my life. I think it would be bad luck to make myself at home."

"Superstitious dunderhead," replied Severus and was relieved that Remus laughed instead of being offended. "Why so pessimistic? Dumbledore would never sack you."

Remus gave him a sad smile and sipped on his tea again, moving his leg to the right quite deliberately to touch it against Severus's. A surge of warm pleasure invaded Severus's body and he closed his eyes for a moment. "Your leg all right?" Remus muttered into his tea and Severus's hand gripped his thigh, a painful reminder of their nocturnal encounter.

"Nothing to worry about," he said coolly, trying not to show a weakness again. "Though I still feel it."

"Why didn't you go see Madam Pomfrey?" the werewolf asked, raising his eyebrows, and he laid his hand on Severus's thigh for a short moment, making Severus stiffen in surprise and shiver with pleasure again. But Remus withdrew his hand quickly as though he thought he had been too bold, putting it there in the first place. "She would have helped you."

Severus hesitated, calming his heart. Yes, well, why hadn't he healed the injury? "I don't know," he said vaguely, quite sure that his subconscious had forgotten it on purpose so as to keep the bruise to stimulate his memories and remind him with every step he took that the kiss had indeed happened. "I could have done it myself, but …"

Remus smiled as though he could see Severus's thoughts in bubbles over his head. How embarrassing. "Had her repair my ankle, because it irked me quite a bit," said Remus. "It had swollen overnight and hurt when I walked or just stood around. And it is dangerous not to be able to maneuver properly when you are a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Or a teacher in general if Fred and George Weasley are your students." He grinned, looking as though he felt pleasantly reminded of his own time as a prankster. "But at least it was proof that the encounter with you in that dark staircase wasn't just an extraordinarily pleasant dream."

Severus didn't reply or react, so as not to give away how pleased he was that Remus would call it a pleasant dream. But he agreed with his every word. His breath hitched when Remus's knee touched his again, only for a moment, as if by accident. The werewolf's eyes were piercing him and he had to avert his own when their knees touched once more, this time for several long moments, and then again, and this time Remus even pressed his knee against Severus's quite gently. Apparently Severus's reaction to the contact had reassured him. Severus's heart was drumming wildly and he heard the blood rushing in his ears. Was Remus feeling the same or did he take it much more calmly than Severus? Was he perhaps more used to such touches than Severus? He must be, for Severus was not used to them at all. Incredible that such a small touch should excite him so. But it was the intimacy in it which did the trick. He just wasn't used to intimacy.

"Would you like to talk about it now, Severus?" asked Remus in the mildest of voices and Severus glanced at him, captivated by those deep, golden eyes. What could Severus say? What did he want Remus to know? Could he even come up with anything worthwhile? He felt like he would only stammer. Like he would not be able to put into words his thoughts and feelings about that kiss.

"I wouldn't know what to say," he replied truthfully.

Remus smiled and the corners of his mouth twitched. "That's fine, not to worry," he said and rested his elbows on his thighs, his hands so very close to Severus's knees. "But I don't believe we can just let it be what it is without agreeing on what it is." He ran a hand through his hair and down his neck, that handsome, pale neck. Severus swallowed, quite nervous now.

"What do you mean?" he said weakly and could have slapped himself for it. Remus cocked his head to the side, an amused light in his eyes that produced those nice crinkles around them.

"I must admit, and I do feel a little ashamed of it, that I rather enjoy the effect I have on you," he said and chuckled huskily, proving his point by making Severus shiver. Severus scowled at Remus to scold him and the werewolf quickly continued, "What I'd like to know is … how do you expect us to go on from here?"

Severus met his eyes, trying to think of something intelligent to say to this. He knew what he wanted, of course. He wanted to repeat the kiss and everything to do with it. He needed them to go on into that direction, as far as possible, as soon as possible, even though they were colleagues and even though he would usually shy away from a connection such as this for all the dangers it posed. The yearning he felt for Remus was wearing him out. He could not remember ever having been so desperate for physical affection. He had been rather less fond of being touched by anyone in the past decade. And now he thought that the werewolf's knee against his, which he was now sure was supposed to tease him, would drive him crazy. He cleared his throat.

"I cannot say," he said slowly, because he really couldn't. He couldn't open up like that in front of the werewolf. He could not expose himself like that again. He had locked his soul away for a reason. Though he did not mind Remus looking at it by force, he didn't have the nerve to reveal it voluntarily. It was as if his tongue was tied.

Remus narrowed his eyes and let them wander over Severus's face, his brow creasing. Suddenly he laid his hand on Severus's wrist, his warmth spreading up Severus's arm. Taken aback, Severus looked into Remus's amber eyes, which were fixing him intently. "I did not kiss you thoughtlessly," said Remus seriously and there was no smile on his face now. Severus had a hard time holding his gaze, for he had not expected such straightforward words. Remus shuffled even closer to Severus now and his hand slid down to gently take Severus's, flustering Severus even more. "You see, I never lived up to my Gryffindor traits quite as much as I did at that moment and over the past weeks," he said and got up to sit down beside Severus, taking a sip of his tea in the process and releasing Severus's hand, which was very hot from having been held by Remus's.

Severus stared at Remus in anticipation as the werewolf faced him again. "Though I suspected that you felt as attracted to me as I to you, I knew you would not kiss me, even if you wanted to, so I tried to read the signs you sent and I thought I read them correctly. Still, I would like to make it clear to you that it wasn't just a kiss to me, I would like it to be just the beginning of something more. I hope that you feel the same way, but if you don't, if it meant nothing to you, or if for some reason you'd rather not go further, you can say it now and we'll try to forget what happened, I think that would be easier for the both of us."

His eyes searched Severus's face for the answer and Severus shook his head at once, unable to say anything, but holding his gaze steadily now. Remus raised his hand and laid it on Severus's shoulder, his eyes imploring him to say or do something, anything. Apparently he did not want to go further without Severus's consent even though Severus knew that Remus was bold enough to do it. He had proved it by kissing him without announcing it. It had indeed been quite reckless. But the werewolf must have given it some thought. Severus liked to think that Remus had thought about it, how best to do it and when, perhaps for days or maybe weeks. It was just fair that Severus reassured him now. He had, after all, enjoyed it very much and been quite pleased that Remus had done it. Remus was right, Severus wouldn't have taken that risk. He was, after all, a Slytherin, not a Gryffindor.

"I think you already know the answer," he said and hesitated for a moment before adding, "Remus."

The werewolf beamed, apparently delighted at hearing Severus use his given name. And it touched Severus as he realised that the intimacy between them had deepened. As it sank in that Remus had actually admitted to being attracted to him. To him of all people! Remus inched closer, sliding his hand from Severus's shoulder up his neck, making his skin tingle with its warmth as long fingers caressed the back of his neck. Severus's breathing quickened. Remus laid his other hand on Severus's chest and leant in, licking his lips as his eyes dropped to Severus's mouth. It was almost unbearable to Severus to wait for Remus to close the gap between them and he was looking forward to finally, finally, feeling Remus again after such a long time and so many interruptions. He raised his hand to Remus's cheek when –

"Remus?" called someone from inside Remus's office, making them flinch apart. "Are you there? I wanted to ask you for a cup of tea." It was Albus. Who else?

"Merlin's _beard_!" hissed Severus angrily, his close acquaintance Frustration spreading in his stomach, where pleasure had been until a moment ago. His skin burned where Remus touched it, hand still on Severus's neck, and Severus wished he were a more powerful wizard so he could hex Dumbledore into the next week. Remus sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose as he pressed his lips together. He looked quite as frustrated as Severus felt.

"He always picks the most inconvenient of moments, as though he had a feeling for it …" he said quietly and gave Severus an extremely rueful look.

"He does," growled Severus, scowling.

Remus drained his cup and pushed himself off the sofa, putting one hand on Severus's leg as if it was the most natural touch in the world, as though he didn't realise how much it excited Severus. Remus took a deep breath and looked as though he were bracing himself before he got up and strode quickly towards his office, probably to keep Albus out of his rooms. But Severus knew Albus better than that. It was too much of a coincidence that he turned up now of all times.

"I am here, Headmaster," Remus called and disappeared through the door, closing it behind him. Severus, who would not wait for his eye-twinkling Headmaster to find him in Remus's rooms and bombard him with countless disgustingly smug and annoyingly uncomfortable questions, drank the rest of his tea in one gulp and imagined for a short moment that the warmth in his mouth was Remus's. As he heard muffled voices behind the door, he set his cup down and approached the fireplace, taking out his wand to clean the cups and the teakettle and stow them away on a shelf.

Trying to calm his heart, Severus took some Floo Powder from a small tin on the mantelpiece and tossed it into the grate. If only Albus had arrived a few moments later, Severus would have kissed Remus again. Just when Remus led Albus into the sitting room rather reluctantly, telling him that he was afraid he could only offer teabags, Severus stepped into the green flames, grateful for the cool air in his own rooms that would chase the flush from his face. Unfortunately, he would have to bear the yearning for a while longer.


	14. Lesson Fourteen: To Err Is Human

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: Enjoy the new chapter. Hey Avery, I like to think that Albus likes to tease people :) and can't you just imagine that he's behind all this anyway? ;).

* * *

 **Lesson Fourteen: To Err Is Human**

It was not that Severus wasn't strong enough to bear some minor longing, or that he was desperate in any way for some trivial pleasure. It was no such petty weakness. But he had to admit that he was losing patience. He had not talked to Remus in two days, let alone engaged in more intimate, physical interaction with the werewolf. And now what he had dreaded last month, the approaching of the full moon, gave him a cast-iron excuse for seeking closeness again without revealing that he was longing for Remus in any other way. But Severus could not wait for the first dose of Wolfsbane to be due, he needed contact now, preferably not only verbal. So he chose a pretext that wasn't actually a pretext at all, so Remus would not suspect it to be a pretext. Severus congratulated himself on his cunning as he slipped a note between Remus's books and papers on the staffroom table, which the werewolf had apparently left there for quick access between classes.

Really, Severus could not possibly feel ashamed of himself. He thought that he had held back quite well, after all he would have had more than enough possibilities to just pull Remus behind a suit of armour or ambush him in the bathroom if he had wanted to. They came across each other rather often, possibly because Remus's scent pulled Severus closer whenever he only caught a trace of it somewhere, like a bloodhound would stalk deer. And he had only restrained himself by means of his extraordinary self-control. Well, he had to admit it was mostly his dignity that had held him back, for he did not want to be the one revealing first that he was impatient. Especially when it was Remus who appeared to have the greater self-control, or perhaps the weaker longing, which would be even worse.

It was not that Severus feared that Remus would not want a private meeting after having been left alone with Albus the other day but, ever since, the werewolf hadn't talked to him or even looked at him anymore, usually he just bustled past him, stress clearly written all over his face, his eyes averted or his nose in some book. Severus wondered if he had made him angry by disappearing without notice but they had not been alone anywhere since Albus had walked in on them. Which was again due to Severus's overlarge dignity. So he had written Remus a note that guaranteed a reaction.

 _R._

 _I shall start brewing your Potion tomorrow and need to check some details. Tell me a convenient time for a private conversation before tomorrow morning._

 _S_.

Writing a letter was much easier than approaching Remus in person and at least nobody could interrupt anything which only happened on paper. Another interruption would definitely drive Severus crazy. When he left the staff room for his next lesson, Remus entered it and they collided, making the werewolf stumble backwards. He apologised and looked up at Severus. His sweet scent rose to Severus's nose and Severus could only just keep from sighing. He took a swift look at the werewolf as he passed him, balling his hands into fists to keep from touching him. Remus looked much healthier these days, not as skinny as he had used to be, so it was probably wise, indeed, to configure the Potion now. When their eyes met, the werewolf nodded at him, without smiling, though, and entered the staff room. Really, Severus thought, the configuration was just a perfect excuse to justify communication.

Severus found his note subtle. But as he was preparing for his afternoon classes, he thought that somewhere in those words, maybe even in his very handwriting, Remus would read something that would give away Severus's true intention. And if he did, would he come? Severus was distracted all through the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw fourth-year double-Potions class. Though he glided through the rows, looming over one cauldron or another as usual, he felt rather unwell when he thought about the werewolf's stern face just now. Perhaps Remus had lost interest, maybe he had grown tired of Severus. No wonder, when Severus felt like a complete git or a helpless dunderhead most of the time, when he was in Remus's presence. And that wasn't likely to improve. It wasn't a pleasant feeling not to know whether he'd ever be close to the werewolf again, in any possible way. He was quite cold even though it was rather warm with all the fires and simmering cauldrons that surrounded him. Surely it was the lack of Remus's presence. _How silly, Severus_. It was an addiction, after all. Severus shook his head to himself, scaring the Gryffindor whose cauldron he was staring into, making him leaf through the instructions to find out where he had gone wrong, even though he hadn't made a mistake at all. Severus was shaking his head at himself. The werewolf wasn't good for him.

Suddenly, as though taking advantage of Severus's absentmindedness, the cauldron beside the one Severus was looking into started smoking and making screeching noises, and before Severus could even react, it exploded, spraying stinking yellow slime all over Severus and the students close by, who shrieked and screamed. With a glare, Severus vanished the mess, freeing the students from the thankfully harmless filth, and took fifty points from Gryffindor, giving the shaking boy who was at fault detention. But Severus knew that it was really his fault for not paying attention. _No_ , he thought, _Remus isn't good for me_.

After he had dismissed the class and everyone had cleared out, Severus waited for his sixth-year NEWT course. He was walking up and down between the blackboard and the door, trying to think of nothing – and failing – when he heard a knock on the door. He turned, surprised. The bell hadn't rung yet, had it?

"Come," he called warily and the door opened. It was Remus. Severus raised an eyebrow, growing nervous for some obscure reason. "What is it?" he said coolly, causing the werewolf to walk towards him, holding up the slip of parchment Severus had left for him.

"You wanted to talk to me about the Potion, so I thought it best to come down at once," he said, coming to a halt a few feet from Severus. Actually, Severus had hoped for a written answer. Paper was easier to handle than werewolves were.

"That wouldn't have been necessary, I only wanted to know if you had gained weight," he said, again rather coolly.

"I know," Remus replied and after a moment's silence, during which Severus couldn't meet his eye, he added, "I have indeed gained some weight. Six spectacular pounds. I suppose it will make a difference to the dosage of the Potion?"

Severus nodded, fixing his eyes on one of the patches on Remus's sleeve. The werewolf was so … strange, so different. Severus didn't know what to say, but Remus didn't leave, just stayed where he was, watching him, his eyes piercing him. There was a tension between them and the air was so thick with unsaid words and suppressed feelings that Severus thought it would crack if he moved. Remus's breathing was audible due to his hoarseness and it made Severus's skin tingle. He could imagine vividly what that breath would feel like against his face. He still remembered how it had been when they had kissed. After a felt eternity Remus cleared his throat which did almost nothing to reduce the hoarseness in his voice as he spoke.

"Severus," he said quietly and before Severus had even looked up, Remus had taken two long strides forward and embraced him. Severus's eyes widened and he forgot to breathe, his heart racing as if he had run a mile, a violent flush rising in his face. Heat was overwhelming him. Remus's body was pressed up against his, the werewolf's arms were holding him tightly, and Severus could feel Remus's slow and steady heartbeat over his own quickened one. He didn't know what to do. He was so stunned that his brain hardly even worked and he hated being helpless. Why couldn't the werewolf just say something. Anything. It was as if Severus were frozen to the spot, unable to move. It had been quite some time since he had been embraced. Maybe he had never been embraced. Certainly not like this, by somebody whom he wanted to kiss. Right now. Somebody whom he had already kissed. Severus shivered as Remus turned his head so that his warm lips touched Severus's ear.

"Severus ... I," Remus whispered but seemed beyond words when he pressed his soft lips against Severus's cheek, making it flame, and Severus's arms laid themselves around the werewolf's body, moving of their own accord. When the bell rang and voices filled the Entrance Hall above them, Remus released him, bringing a little distance between them, though his arms were still loosely encircling Severus's waist. Remus gazed up into Severus's eyes. He didn't want to leave. Severus could tell without using Legilimency.

"I didn't want to wait another week. Not even another day," he whispered, and Severus was sure that his knees had turned to pudding. "Don't always torture me like that, Severus, until I found your letter I thought you might have lost interest." And without warning he leant in again, brushing his lips against Severus's, making him shiver with pleasure and relief. Finally. The warm tenderness made his head light and he threaded his fingers through Remus's hair, breathing in his wonderful fragrance. But after only a few short seconds, the werewolf pulled back and took his warmth with him once more, stepping back from Severus.

"You will bring the Potion to my office tomorrow?" he asked softly, when the voices drew nearer and Severus nodded, smoothing his robes, unable to speak. "Good, I'll be expecting you." Remus touched Severus's cheek in a short caress, giving him the sweetest smile yet, and left the dungeon, humming to himself. Severus looked after him for a moment and ran his hands through his hair, hoping that he didn't look too disheveled. Too … well, _kissed_. Then he walked to the door, where the voices were buzzing loudly, and with a last deep breath he opened it to let the students in.

When he waved his wand to write onto the board the instructions for the potion he would have them brew, his hand shook considerably and he needed to sit down to prevent his knees from buckling. No, the werewolf wasn't good for him. But he didn't care. That kiss had solved everything, and he did not want to see the potential problems and difficulties that might come in its wake. He congratulated himself once again on writing the note, or rather on unconsciously including his true intention in it. What he had feared had helped in the end and Remus had done him the courtesy of doing what Severus wouldn't have dared.

Over the next week, Severus brought Remus one goblet of Wolfsbane Potion per day, every afternoon after lunch. On Tuesday he walked up to his office and was greeted with a broad smile and thanked with a rather deep kiss, a cup of tea, and another swift kiss on his lips when he left again. It left him feeling warm as he made his way back down to the dungeons, telling himself how pathetic he was, quite ridiculously pleased. Remus always seemed so nonchalant about everything, quite self-confident, and whatever he did, he did it with self-assurance. Which only made Severus feel even less self-assured. On Wednesday and Thursday he brought the goblet with him to the staffroom on Remus's request due to the grading he had to get done and the shorter way from lunch and to his classes. Severus only got a smile in return.

When Friday arrived, Severus brought the Potion to Remus's office again, hoping for some more intimacy, longing for it. He was rather disappointed when he saw how busy the werewolf was, sitting at his desk, surrounded by countless rolls of parchment, barely looking up when he wished Severus a "good afternoon". Severus waited for the werewolf to drain the goblet before turning to leave again but he was caught by the hand. He turned his head and met Remus's golden eyes. "I'm sorry, Severus," he said, "thank you." Severus leant in a little as if automatically, when Remus reached up to hug him but today he didn't kiss him at all. That left Severus frustrated and thoughtful, wondering why the werewolf hadn't kissed him this time, ignoring the fact that he himself hadn't done it, either. Maybe he was reading too much into it. He wished he were brave enough to ask Remus for the answer but he felt embarrassed at the mere thought. And really, it was not as though Remus was obliged to kiss him every time they were alone together. It was just that … Severus expected it. He wanted it. Didn't Remus?

Severus decided not to fret before his next visit to Remus's office. After all, what if Remus behaved normally again? Severus would have made a fool of himself for nothing. Today he would not just leave again, no matter how Remus behaved, he would stay and invite himself to tea and force his unpleasant company on Remus like Remus had done before Severus came to … well, to like him. Severus missed talking to the werewolf, it had been quite a while since their last proper conversation and now was the time. So on Saturday, the day of the first Hogsmeade weekend of term, Severus took advantage of the deserted castle to make his way through the corridors and up the stairs to Remus's office, unworried this time that anyone might upturn the goblet with Wolfsbane he was carrying.

His heartbeat was already picking up speed when he knocked on the door and Remus answered from within. "Come in," said his hoarse voice and Severus opened the door. He stopped dead when he saw that Remus was not alone. And not only was he not alone, he was in the company of one Harry Potter of all people. Even though he had known that Severus would come. Severus grew angry at what he saw: the insolent Potter-brat sitting on _his_ chair, drinking from _his_ cup, together with _his_ werewo–

He stopped his train of thought right there, very abruptly. He covered up his silly jealousy with familiar hatred. He narrowed his eyes at the boy. How _dare_ he? Now he even stole from Severus the little time he had with the werewolf. And Remus even seemed to enjoy his presence. He certainly didn't ask the boy to leave to make room for Severus. And it was unlikely that Potter would invite himself to tea like Severus would.

"Ah, Severus," said Remus smiling. "Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?"

Severus remembered suddenly that there was a reason for his being here other than being kissed and set the goblet down on the table, looking from one Gryffindor to the other. Why didn't Remus throw the boy out now? He had known that Severus would come, so why had he let him in at all? Why on earth did he not notice that Severus wanted to be alone with him? That he wanted to say and do things that were not for Potter to hear or see. Remus seemed far from noticing anything at the moment. Anger or desire.

"I was just showing Harry my Grindylow," said Remus pleasantly, noticing Severus's questioning look, and pointed at a glass tank in the corner, where the Kappa had sat until not so long ago, and the Redcap before it. Severus didn't even look at the long-awaited creature. He was in a very bad mood.

"Fascinating," he said. "You should drink that directly, Lupin."

"Yes, yes, I will," replied Remus but didn't touch the goblet. Severus grew impatient, and he didn't like Remus's tone. It sounded so careless, as though he was quite indifferent to the Potion and Severus's presence. As though both were just a nuisance to him. Not hours and hours of work and a source of pleasure. Severus wanted to shake him. It made him uncomfortable that Remus could act so convincingly as though he had not kissed Severus, as though he had not embraced him, as though he felt nothing beyond collegiality for him. Though Severus knew it would have made him just as uncomfortable if Remus had shown his liking openly, he wished that the werewolf couldn't suppress it so completely.

"I made an entire cauldronful," he continued, though he knew that Remus was very well aware of that. "If you need more." It was an invitation. But the werewolf didn't seem to get it. Perhaps he really didn't care. Perhaps it wasn't important to him when he could kiss Severus again. When Severus would hold him again. Not that Severus felt any desire to hold him … _You were a better liar once_.

"I should probably take some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Severus." Remus smiled. Severus scowled. He was throwing him out, wasn't he? Yes, it was there in his eyes: he wanted Severus to leave. To stop disturbing his togetherness with Potter, his best friend's son. Severus's tormentor's son. That was too much. Severus was fuming inside. Remus could say goodbye to being held or kissed by Severus today. But he didn't care anyway, did he?

"Not at all," said Severus curtly and left with a last wary look at the two Gryffindors. He walked down the corridor into the direction that Potter wouldn't take, as it led to the Astronomy Tower, and leant against the wall round the corner. He would wait for Potter to leave. He wanted to know if Remus had changed his mind about him. And he didn't have to wait long. A few minutes later the office door opened and closed again and he heard the boy walk away, his steps fading quickly.

Severus strode swiftly back to the office and when he approached the door, it opened suddenly and Remus stepped into the corridor with the empty goblet in his hands. He looked up as he noticed Severus and he smiled, surprised. And Severus felt his resolution to deny Remus an embrace shrink rapidly. His amber eyes were far too nice to look at. And that smile was too sweet not to be kissed away. But no, he had to stay strong. At least as long as they were in the corridor.

"Ah, Severus," he said again, beckoning Severus back into his office. "I wanted to bring you the goblet. I thought you had invited me to come down. But maybe I misunderstood."

"I thought you hadn't realised," Severus growled and watched Remus open the door to his sitting room. Well, at least the werewolf still wanted him in his private rooms. Maybe Severus had overreacted once again.

"And I thought you hadn't noticed _my_ offer," Remus replied, smiling slightly, "when I said you should leave the goblet on the table. I meant to take it down to you and visit. I could hardly throw Harry out just because Professor Snape had come in. That would have drawn far too much attention on the Potion and destroyed the illusion that you hate me. Which, I am sure, you still want to keep up."

Severus stared at him. Oh, well. That explained a lot. But still, the werewolf hadn't touched him yet. It seemed to Severus as if he were even keeping a distance right now. They sat down on the sofa and the werewolf set the goblet down on the table, leaning back with a sigh. Then he chuckled softly, as if to himself. And Severus shivered.

"Harry seemed quite shocked when he saw me drink the Potion," Remus explained in an amused voice. "Apparently he thinks that you want to poison me to get my job and that that wouldn't be surprising because you are so much into the Dark Arts. At least that is what he implied. I did not find it wise to engage in that conversation." Severus glared at him. As though he would be stupid enough to poison the person he was supposed to keep safe with a Potion. There was no way that would be more stupid for a Potions master to kill or seriously harm someone. Not that he would ever kill or harm Remus. The werewolf seemed to see Severus's thoughts, as usual. "Oh, I don't believe that you would poison me," he assured him casually. "Even if you wanted to get my job, you would be cleverer than poisoning me." Then his smile was replaced by a frown. Severus did not even have time to retort anything witty. "Why do you want to teach DADA, anyway? You're a brilliant Potions master. I can't imagine that any other subject would be better suited for you."

Severus let his eyes wander away from Remus's face and looked out of the window. What could he say without giving Remus a false impression. This kind of thing was so easily misunderstood. But Remus … Remus would not misunderstand. He was more understanding than most people. Cleverer than most people. _So just talk away, Severus, Remus wants to hear it_.

"The Dark Arts captivate me," he answered quietly. "It is the variety of them, the power they give, the constant change they undergo to prevent defeat. Even the fear they incite in one. I was there when they were at their most powerful, I was close to those who used them most skillfully. I experienced them first hand. They are some of the most magnificent pieces of magic in existence."

Severus gave Remus a sidelong glance to make sure that he had not said too much. He was not so sure of himself now, it had been easier to tell Remus about Potions and what made them special to him. Maybe because they were not connected so obviously to evil deeds and Dark times. He didn't want Remus to think that he approved in any way of those deeds or times, even though he was a Death Eater. _You no longer are, he knows you no longer are_. But that Mark would stay on Severus's arm forever to remind them both that he had once been part of those Dark times. And an active part at that.

But Remus did not seem to harbour such thoughts. He was grinning. There were those handsome crinkles round his eyes and the characteristic twitching in the corners of his mouth. "You do realise, though, that the subject is called _Defence Against_ the Dark Arts?" he asked, teasing audible in his voice.

"Of course, I do," Severus replied in a low voice and directed his eyes out of the window again. "That is the point. To find a way to beat the Dark Arts is … important. It makes a difference. And on top of everything, one is recognised for it. You wouldn't understand this, but only few people realise how important and intriguing Potions are and they don't admire me for brewing them. Everybody acknowledges Dumbledore for having defeated Dark wizards, but who knows who invented the Wolfsbane? Who but you and me, and those who are Potioneers themselves? Who's interested in new developments in the field of Potions? Everyone only pays attention to magnificent spells and visibly powerful magic."

Remus was silent for a minute or so, looking at Severus, who was sitting quite stiffly, trying to ignore the werewolf's hand so close to his leg. Suddenly Severus felt Remus's fingers touching his thigh and knew that Remus was making contact to show him that he understood him. That he felt with him and wanted to be close to him. Severus felt relieved. He had indeed fretted for nothing.

"I acknowledge your skill and there are few things as important to me and my life than the potions you brew for me," Remus said seriously and Severus felt some odd gratitude welling up inside him. "And you can see for yourself this week that it makes all the difference in the world. No spell could help me. It has always been clear to wizards and witches that it would be a potion that would cure lycanthropy. And this is a huge step into that direction." He indicated the goblet with his hand and pressed his fingers against Severus's thigh at the same time. Severus understood that Remus felt gratitude, too. "Potions cure sicknesses and heal injuries every day. I, for my part, am grateful that there are people like you – pardon me – that _you_ are here to help me."

 _Grateful that Severus was there_ , that sounded nicer than it should. Severus looked at Remus, his eyes wandering over Remus's tired features. "I am also quite skilled at inventing spells," he said, trying to convince himself that he wasn't attempting to impress the werewolf. He restrained himself from telling him that the spell his little friends had used to lift him into the air by his foot had been invented by him, too. A bitter experience, his own spells being used against him. It wouldn't happen nowadays. Well, and nowadays Remus was _grateful_ that Severus was there. How peculiar.

"I'm sure of that," Remus smiled. "And you are a brilliant Potioneer."

Severus met his warm eyes and nodded, thinking that yes, actually he was right. Probably he was much better suited for teaching Potions than for teaching spells. And they were less likely to be used by dunderheads. Still, the DADA job was his goal. Maybe because he couldn't have it. Maybe because even Albus didn't give him that chance. The only chance he wanted. Even Albus did not trust him with that. He trusted this werewolf, whom he had not seen in years, who was the former best friend of an escaped convict, more than Severus, who had lived side by side with him for years. But as Severus looked at Remus, he thought that that was the least surprising of all. This werewolf seemed very trustworthy, very kind, without even saying a word and even more so when he did speak.

"Maybe one day you will cure lycanthropy," the werewolf said, smiling. "You would be admired and recognised by everybody. First of all by me, of course." _You'd be the first to drink that cure_ , Severus thought, but he didn't say it out loud. Maybe he should have said it. But before he could make up his mind, Remus chuckled again and changed the topic. Perhaps he could only talk about his affliction for so long before he couldn't bear it anymore. "I heard the children talk about Hogsmeade all week. I cannot believe they're still so fascinated by the Shrieking Shack."

Severus smirked a little, deciding not to force Remus to talk about things that might be unpleasant to him. "It is indeed hard not to tell them the truth about the 'shrieking spirits' everybody believes to have haunted that shack," he said silkily and Remus turned to look at him with a searching expression. But Severus did not feel like teasing him too much today. Right now he wanted to encourage Remus to intensify the contact he still felt in the form of Remus's fingers against his leg. "I mean, actually, you are a celebrity." At this the werewolf grinned and indeed his fingers gave Severus's leg a light caress and then his hand was actually bold enough to run up and down Severus's thigh before coming to rest warmly near Severus's knee. This intimate touch was thrilling to Severus, even more so when Remus gave him an intense look with that emotion in his eyes that Severus still couldn't believe was felt for him.

"Yes, it's funny, isn't it? So much fuss about a little bit of monthly howling that stopped over fifteen years ago," he said. "It's hard to believe that anyone would go to so much trouble only to enable me to study here. Really, I cannot believe it myself, that anyone would go to such lengths only for me. And now, too. Albus and you … what you take upon yourselves to give me the chance to teach here ..."

Remus was still smiling slightly but his eyes were sad. Severus didn't agree with him. He could believe it, could comprehend it. He knew why he put so much effort in the Wolfsbane this month, because he understood very well why Dumbledore wanted to make it possible for Remus to do what he had been born to do. It was a good feeling to see him drink the Potion and know that he was contributing to Remus's well-being and satisfaction. But again he didn't say it. Even though now, when he looked at Remus's face, he remembered that, actually, he _had_ come here to be kissed by this man. But Remus did not seem to be willing to make the first move. He was very reserved still.

 _Maybe_ , Severus thought, _maybe he doesn't touch me properly because I didn't respond_. He considered the werewolf, letting his eyes wander over his handsome face to his slender neck. Everything about him was beautiful and it was not at all odd to think of him like that, it came quite naturally. Severus mustered all the bravery he could find in himself and inched closer to Remus, his arm snaking around Remus's shoulders. Taking Remus's hand on his thigh into his own to gently caress his fingers, he rubbed his calloused thumb over Remus's smooth skin, causing the werewolf to smile much less sadly. Then Severus lowered his head, determined to take the initiative this time by doing what he thought would please them both, brushing his lips against Remus's neck, against his soft skin, and he kissed one of the many scars, drawing a soft sigh from the werewolf's mouth. Then he raised his head, nuzzling the werewolf's jaw, tilting his chin up with a gentle hand, finding his lips and pressing his own down upon them.

Remus returned the kiss gently and Severus moaned softly, breathing in Remus's scent and thanking Merlin for this moment alone, reassured that the werewolf wanted it, too, after all. He tightened his hold on Remus's shoulders, deepening the kiss further, and felt a soft vibration in his mouth, caused by Remus's voice, and his mind registered how singularly pleasurable this was when Remus ran his hands over his chest and –

Suddenly the werewolf pushed him away rather roughly and brought a distance between them by shuffling hastily away from him. Severus stared at Remus in startled shock. The werewolf was panting slightly, his face was flushed, and he quickly averted his eyes when Severus's searched them. He turned away and said, "Please, don't, Severus."

For a moment Severus didn't understand. But then he suddenly realised what it all meant. It all made sense, the aversion to look at him, to touch him, to kiss him. After all, the werewolf didn't want him. Had probably only toyed with him, led him on, laughed at him behind his back because he had taken it seriously. He was furious. At himself most of all. Why had he been stupid enough to believe that Remus actually wanted more? But … Remus had made him believe that he did, or hadn't he? Perhaps Severus had been right in thinking that Remus was sending signs of disinterest. The werewolf just hadn't wanted to say it, had he? Or was it indeed cruel intention? Remus should have said, in any case, just said that he didn't want Severus to touch him. If he hated it, he could just stand up and say it. It was not as though Severus's feelings had mattered much to him in the past. It was not as if Severus had kissed him first. Maybe it had been one of Remus's mature pranks. Well, Severus didn't find it very entertaining. He snatched the goblet from the table and strode angrily to the fireplace.

"Fine," he snapped, barely able to keep his voice steady and even less able to suppress the burning feeling of inadequacy that invaded him at the thought that Remus had not liked what he had done. The werewolf's eyes looked up to meet his and there was a strange light alive in them. "Fine!" Severus repeated and approached the fireplace, hot anger and unwanted embarrassment smouldering his stomach.

"Where are you going?" Remus asked in an unusually weak voice, probably still disgusted by Severus's touch.

"Away, out of your sight, that's what you want, isn't it?" And with that Severus tossed a handful of Floo Powder into the grate and left.

When he arrived in his rooms, he stumbled over the hearthrug and fell to his knees. He would almost not have got up again, so heavily did the weight of the werewolf's rejection weigh on him. Overcome by a wave of fury, he hurled the goblet into one of the glass cabinets where he kept the awards he had received from the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. The glass shattered deafeningly and it was relieving to watch the destruction mimicking what was going on inside him. He collapsed on the sofa and tried to ignore the raging feelings inside of him, the disappointment and the anger, the painful shame most of all. The feeling of loss. How silly of him to think that Remus was his in the first place. _You should have known better_. But it hurt nonetheless.

During Hallowe'en dinner, which Severus had not wanted to attend at all, his fingers itched to hex all those happy faces around him. How could they be cheerful when Severus didn't even remember how being cheerful felt? He kept glancing down the table at Remus – quite involuntarily his eyes were drawn to him, which was why he had not wanted to come, for Remus's sight was cruel torture – and though he knew that the smile the werewolf was giving Flitwick as they talked was not genuine, it made him sick that Remus was smiling at all, that he had someone to talk to, someone he listened to. And that that someone was not Severus. It made Severus sick that he wished it were him. He felt empty and humiliated and the only thing that prevented him from vanishing into the ground was that Remus did not look at or talk to him and that nobody else knew of their connection and what had happened today. But he had opened himself too much to the werewolf, had let him see what he never let anyone else see. Which only made Severus want to know even more urgently why he had been rejected. Maybe there was something about him that was too abominable to endure even for the werewolf.

Severus was still pondering this rather grudgingly when the feast ended, but he had to put all this out of his mind for the time being, for he had barely reached his office when panic broke loose among the students that were still loitering about, and he sprinted upstairs towards its source. The ghosts informed him that Sirius Black had managed to break into the castle and while he was hurrying towards Gryffindor Tower, Severus wondered at Black's bad timing. Why did he break in while there was no chance for him to kill Potter? And more importantly, how on earth had he made it into the castle without anyone noticing?

Severus arrived in the corridor leading to the Gryffindor common room at the same time as McGonagall and, unfortunately, Remus, who seemed to have heard the disturbance on his way upstairs. Albus was already there, standing in front of the vandalised portrait of the Fat Lady and being told by Peeves, who was hovering above his head, that Black had tried to get in the Tower and destroyed the Fat Lady's portrait when she hadn't let him in. The words had barely left him, when Remus turned on his heel and set off to search for Black and it roused Severus's suspicions that Remus seemed to know exactly where he had to go. Deciding that it was important to trust his instincts, Severus followed him silently, keeping a distance to prevent attracting attention. Whatever Remus was up to, Severus would find out and he would find a way to punish Remus for rejecting him earlier. _Is it a crime to reject you, Snape, do you want to punish everyone who would? You would have plenty to do, then_. But it was Remus who had baited him. He would have to pay.

And indeed, Severus's instincts had been right. Remus stopped halfway down the third-floor corridor and drew his wand, looking around. "Sirius!" he called and Severus pressed his back against a wall, straining his ears. "Sirius, are you there? Don't make things worse! Just come out and talk to me."

So Severus's initial suspicions had been right. The werewolf had let Black into the castle as soon as he had been sure that nobody would interfere. Including Severus. After all, who would trust kindly Professor Lupin with this horrific deed? Severus grew furious again. How could he have fallen for that charade? He whipped out his wand and tried to ignore the searing pain in his chest. The werewolf had tried to gain his trust, nothing more. Had used him. Given him a sweet treat to distract him. And he would pay dearly for it. Severus would find a way to get him sacked or into prison for wanting to kill Potter. When he heard him call the murderer's name again, he revealed himself, stepping out of the shadows behind the werewolf, pointing his wand at him.

Remus whipped round with a shocked look on his face, wand at the ready. But instead of staying on his guard, he let out the breath he'd been holding, lowering his wand at once when he saw that it was Severus. As though he felt safe, not caught in the act. As though he was glad for Severus's support in searching for Black. But Severus knew better now. Somebody who could pretend to feel desire and liking, could pretend to be innocent. He would not fall for it this time.

"Severus, thank Merlin it's you," Remus said, sounding relieved, and he walked backwards to lean against the statue of the one-eyed witch. "I was up for a duel just now."

"Where is he?" Severus growled, his eyes darting through the dark corridor. Was he hiding? Would he spring out of the shadows any moment now? Severus did not know if he could fight the two of them single-handedly, but he would certainly not run. The werewolf's eyes widened and Severus saw quite clearly how he locked his mind, so as not to give Severus a chance to use Legilimency. There was no greater proof of guilt.

"I don't know, didn't find him," he said far too quickly, stowing his wand away in his belt. His eyes flickered towards Severus's wand, which was still directed at him. To be sure, Severus would not have thought yesterday that he would ever direct his wand at this man, the feeling of whose lips he still remembered quite clearly on his own.

"Liar!" Severus snapped, red sparks flying from his wand, illuminating the darkness for a second or two. Remus did not move. He wasn't scared or worried. He knew something Severus didn't, it seemed. Or he just knew that Severus would not attack him. Severus did not know. Not just yet. "I heard you call his name, I saw you come here as if you knew exactly where to go! You helped him into the castle, didn't you?" He wanted the werewolf to deny it, wanted him to yell at him, wanted him to soothe his anger. But when he did deny it, with those guilty eyes, it only made Severus more furious.

"I most certainly did not," said Remus quietly and there was some cold inflection in his voice that Severus had never heard before. "I saw movement and followed it. It led me here. However, I don't know if it was him or where he went if it was. Accusing me of such a thing is very bad taste indeed, Severus, and if I didn't feel for you as I do, I think it would be hard for me to forgive you this offence."

Severus glared at him. Though he wished he could believe him, practicing Occlumency did not make one particularly believable. Not that Severus would have used Legilimency, but the fact that Remus was making sure he couldn't was just too suspicious. He knew more than he was letting on, and Severus was sure that only half of what Remus said could be true. But which half? Remus cleared his throat, and as Severus met his eyes, he could make out some strange indignation in his features that was covered up so quickly by Remus's usual pleasant indifference that Severus was unsure if it had been there at all.

"I would be very obliged if you could lower your wand now, Severus," the werewolf said calmly, but his hoarse voice was far from the mild tone he usually applied. "It is making me quite uneasy. I am unarmed as you can see, and I can assure you that you would be the last person I would want to attack."

Severus hesitated. He wanted to curse him, hex him, make him feel the pain that he was feeling right now, thinking of how Remus had pushed him away after he had finally found the bravery to take the initiative. After he had endowed him with gentler touches than he would ever let anybody else feel. Remus had rejected that privilege and Severus wanted to show him how that felt. But if he attacked him now, while the werewolf was unarmed, and having no proof that he had helped Black, he would be the one who was sacked or imprisoned. So he lowered his wand, causing the werewolf to smile. It looked tentative. And it slipped off his face quickly when Severus gave him his deathliest glare.

"I don't believe a word you say," snarled Severus in a threatening voice and Remus straightened up, looking stricken. "Be sure that Dumbledore will hear about this!" He turned and strode down the corridor, ignoring the urge to go back and slap Remus. This was what he had been fearing, and now it had happened. How very encouraging. Remus did not call him back, and when Severus glanced over his shoulder, he saw him standing there in the darkness, looking silently after him.

Severus searched the third floor at least ten times before he was quite certain that Black was not hiding in the shadows or classrooms. He made sure to come across Remus once in a while to prevent him from doing anything criminal, glaring at him but receiving no reaction. Remus did not even look at him. After a while, Severus received reports from Filch, who had searched the dungeons and from all the other teachers, who had patrolled the rest of the castle, but no one had seen so much as a trace of Black. The werewolf had apparently been too quick at helping him escape. When Severus made his way down to the Great Hall to find Dumbledore at about three o'clock in the morning, his anger was at an all-time high. He had so wished to be the one to find Black. He could have taken revenge so easily, no one would have complained, he would even have received an Order of Merlin for it. When he entered the Great Hall, he strode directly towards Albus, who was standing with the Weasley Head Boy. Severus gave his report and tried to talk to Albus about Remus's involvement, but Albus wouldn't hear any of it.

As Severus watched Albus exit the Hall, he wished he had been alone with him so he could have told him all about what he'd seen and heard. Now his chance had passed. Albus wouldn't listen to him anymore. He heaved a sigh when he left the Great Hall. He remembered Remus's rejection in vivid detail. It was painful. It was unforgivable. Severus felt as though he could never be in the same room with Remus again without feeling humiliated, inadequate. That would be enough of a laugh for Remus, no doubt. But now he had also got away with helping Black. Right under Severus's nose. With as dirty a trick as seduction. How low one could sink. And yet, despite himself, after all that had happened today, Severus regretted that he could not feel the pleasure of Remus's touch again. How pathetic. He wished he hadn't been so uncharacteristically gullible. That would have spared him this painful loss.


	15. Lesson Fifteen: True Colors

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, it's a bit different, but I enjoyed writing it. Hey, Ilanea, thanks for the review, I'm glad you like the story so much :) I'm afraid I'm rather fond of cliffhangers, but I'll try to keep updating regularly.

* * *

 **Lesson Fifteen: True Colours**

On the last two days before the full moon, Severus slammed the Wolfsbane Potion on the staffroom table in front of Remus, uncaring who else was there to see, something he had refrained from doing before out of respectful discretion. Because he had cared about Remus and wanted to do him this courtesy. Not anymore. Remus noticed this change and flinched both times, giving Severus a startled look before trying to speak to him. But Severus would not listen. He swept off back to his dungeon where he brewed away furiously, trying to occupy his mind so as not to leave it any time to think of Remus. He neither wanted to see nor talk to him. Ever again. Or so he told himself, for he knew, deep down, that he was absolutely torn between his desire for the werewolf and his angry disappointment. That Remus still had such a huge influence on him was most annoying.

Severus was a little overwhelmed by all those emotions and though he felt ashamed that he couldn't bear it, he blamed it all on Remus so he wouldn't have to deal with it. There was an easy solution for all his problems: the werewolf would have to leave. Like that, Severus could continue his life alone and untroubled, like he had used to before the werewolf's charm had overpowered him. Another highly shameful and embarrassing thing. But even while he was scheming how he could get rid of Remus, he knew that he did not really want to go back to his lonely life. What he really wanted was to go back to the intimacy, back three days ago, before Remus had rejected him. He wanted to start over. For several weeks Remus had made Severus feel as though he were perfect the way he was, as though nothing about Severus were not to his taste. In his presence, Severus had been able to be himself, Dark Mark and all. All the things he had needed had been given to him by somebody as unlikely as Remus.

And taken away from him again. Quite violently. Leaving nothing but this feeling of inadequacy and humiliation. Quite a stark contrast to the things Severus had relished. He understood now how two opposing feelings could live in one and the same body at one and the same moment. Even though going back to an again lonely life was not an appealing prospect, at least it would relieve him of this state of emotional turmoil. And as though fate wanted to make this separation easier on him, it sent Albus to his office in the evening, carrying Remus's notes, to tell him that he would have to cover Remus's DADA classes for as long as Remus needed to recover from the transformation. Which meant at least tomorrow, if not longer.

"I would not ask you this favour, but since you are an expert on the Dark Arts it only makes sense to have you cover Remus's classes while he doesn't feel up to it," said Albus, surveying Severus over the top of his half-moon glasses. Severus leafed through the notes, having some difficulty deciphering Remus's untidy hand, and nodded absently. A trace of Remus's sweet fragrance escaped from between the pages. Severus felt reminded of the licorice ravens and the note Remus had sent with them. It seemed like decades had passed since then. And everything that had happened since felt like a pleasant dream with a harsh awakening. Feeling Albus's expectant eyes on him, Severus looked up again, straightening the notes into a neat stack.

"Very well, Headmaster," he said smoothly, trying not to give his thoughts away. "I am always glad to be of assistance."

Albus looked concerned. Severus supposed that Remus had talked to him, and hoped that the talk had not been too intimate. "I do not mean to be nosy, Severus, but I could not but notice a certain tension between the two of you," he said and Severus found him rather nosy, indeed. He huffed and shuffled the notes again, destroying the neat stack he had formed and setting free Remus's fragrance again. In the process he caught a glimpse of an 'S' in Remus's hand and imagined what it would look like if the werewolf wrote his name. _How ridiculous_. "Remus did not want to give you the notes himself for he feels that you have no wish to see him," Albus went on when he received no verbal reaction from Severus. "He seemed quite upset. And there I thought you were getting along fine, very good, even. I thought I had detected some liking for each other in the both of you … if anything has happened, if there is anything you would like to talk about –"

"There is nothing I want to talk about," Severus interrupted him roughly, tossing the notes on the desk, scattering them all over the homework he was grading. Albus raised his eyebrows. Severus cleared his throat, fully aware that for Albus, who knew him so well, this reaction was proof enough that something was indeed amiss. "Lupin is right, I have no wish to see or speak to him, which should not surprise you after our conversation on Saturday. You might not want to hear any of this but I do not trust Lupin more than I would trust a Sphinx, no matter how charming their smiles. He is dishonest and deceitful, and you would do well to be a little more careful where he is concerned. And for your information, a horned slug would have a greater chance to earn my liking than Lupin. Like him – ha!"

 _Obsession would be a more fitting word, wouldn't it?_ said a little voice inside his head and he glowered at Albus as though he had injected that thought into his mind. Albus sighed and reached into his robes to pull out a sherbet lemon, unrolling it from its wrapper to pop it into his mouth. As though it was a sedative, keeping him from losing patience with Severus. Indeed, Severus thought that that must be how they got along without yelling at each other all the time, they were so different and each so annoying in his own way that there had to be a trick to it. Finally Albus pushed the sherbet into his cheek and was ready to reply.

"Well, my boy, of course there is nothing I can do to convince you of Remus's trustworthiness and even less of his likability," he said thoughtfully. "But I had hoped that you would find both on your own. You seemed on the right track –"

"Much rather it was the track to uncovering his true face," Severus muttered, staring angrily down at Remus's notes. "The one with the split tongue."

"So something did happen," said Albus triumphantly and Severus could have slapped himself. "Pray tell me what it was, Severus, surely just a misunderstanding."

"Why not ask your precious werewolf, then, see what _he_ has to say on the matter?" spat Severus. Albus's face darkened.

"I warn you not to refer to Remus like that, Severus, in such a disparaging tone," he said quite coldly, "it is beneath you and unworthy of the man you are so carelessly abusing. I know you do not harbour any prejudice but even so, or rather because of that, you should never lower yourself to such a level. You are better than that. Only because you are angry at him now does not mean that you have the right to demean him. You do possess manners. After all, it is not as thought Remus referred to you as my 'precious Death Eater', now is it?"

"That's because I'm not precious to you, his presence here is proof enough of that," muttered Severus, rather defiant for having been told off like a child for using a swear word. Albus, though, gave him a look that was in-between apologetic and hurt.

"If you really believe that, you don't know me as well as I thought," he said softly, quite seriously, and the heavy silence that followed made Severus quite uncomfortable. Albus's blue eyes punished him for a few moments by looking directly into his before they finally drifted over the shelves and the uncomfortable silence was broken. Albus returned to the initial topic and as unpleasant as that was, Severus was grateful that he did not have to say anything on the other matter. "Well, anyway, Remus did not want to talk about it, either, probably out of respect for you."

"More likely because he doesn't want to show you that his clean slate isn't as clean as he would have you believe," replied Severus despite himself, and Albus raised his eyebrows.

"But then now would be the time to tell me why he is such a horrible person, Severus," he said shrewdly, "go ahead, why don't you?"

Severus leant back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. Nothing doing. That particular detail of Remus's crimes was too private. Severus would never reveal it to anyone, no matter how much he wanted him gone. Though Albus would probably actually consider firing Remus for having seduced Severus just to gain his trust and get him out of the way on Hallowe'en. Or maybe Albus would fire Severus for having been stupid enough to fall for this hoax.

"I shall cover Lupin's classes for as long as I'm needed, Headmaster," said Severus, closing the subject. "If you could leave me now, I still have work to do."

When Albus had finally left and Severus was grading again, his mind was still angrily occupied with Albus's words. _Like_ him. Severus did not _like_ Remus, had never liked Remus. He gave a damn about him. He had been trying to convince himself of this for two days already. With no chance of success. If he didn't care, he wouldn't be so angry. If he didn't care, he wouldn't have made an effort to impress him or to gain his liking. He did care. He more than liked him. And he wished there was a potion to get rid of all emotion. But there wasn't. Emotion was one of those tricky things that could not be influenced by magic. He had already passed the point of no return and he knew it. There was a way, though, of getting rid of his problems' cause. A way that wouldn't land him in Azkaban. It might only earn him Albus's anger. But that was fine, Albus never stayed angry for long. The only thing he needed for this plan was just one student smart enough to count one and one together … That shouldn't be a problem, should it?

After the full moon, Severus didn't visit the werewolf to bring him an Invigorating Draught. He had no interest in checking up on him or even being in the same room with him. He wanted him to suffer, and maybe the lack of such a potion would keep him away from work a little longer than if he received one. From Tuesday on, Severus taught Remus's classes, all from first-years to seventh-years. They shuffled in, expecting that amiable, ever-smiling dunderhead and who was waiting for them? Their loathed, menacing Potions master. Their silly faces were very amusing indeed. In every class he found an excuse to cover werewolves and discussed how to recognise them in human form and how to kill them when transformed. He set all of them an essay on the topic.

But when he returned to his office, he felt no better, and nothing he did could improve his mood. It was as if Remus had pushed him into a well of misery, looking down at him, a rope in his hand that he would not throw down to help Severus out before he asked nicely. And everybody knew that asking nicely was well beyond Severus's capabilities.

On Saturday, the day of the first Quidditch match of the season, Remus still hadn't recovered. Trying to push the unwanted worry out of the way, Severus refused to look after him, even though Albus had told him that Remus expressly refused to have Madam Pomfrey see him. The werewolf's pride was insignificant. It was his own fault if he didn't accept help from anyone but Severus. Perhaps he was punishing himself for wronging Severus, which was just as well. Severus pretended not to care even when he overheard Albus and McGonagall talking about Remus's poor health at breakfast. He strained his ears, though, despite himself.

"… has caught a cold on top of everything, and his defences seem to be especially weak after the full moon. When I visited him he could barely sit up in bed. He could still insist that I leave him to himself, though, he says he doesn't want to trouble anyone and he refuses help altogether. That boy is too proud for his own good …" concluded Albus gravely and it sent a guilty chill through Severus. Surely it hadn't been that bad last time? Severus had been there, Remus had been weak, yes, but not downright ill. He shook his head at himself. The werewolf deserved it. Yes, he did.

"Poor man," said McGonagall, and the pity in her voice, Severus knew that much, would have made Remus cringe in dismay. "I hope he'll get well soon. But Remus agreed to let Severus see him, why won't Severus look after him, then? He did last time, didn't he?"

Severus scowled at his plate. No, he wouldn't waste even one more second on this deceiving, treacherous, calculating werewolf. "I'm afraid they seem to be having a few differences that Severus is unwilling to overcome," said Albus quietly, causing Severus to rise and leave the Hall. The guilt was starting to devour the anger.

Severus exited the castle and headed for the Quidditch pitch where he was soon joined by the other teachers. The match didn't interest him much, Gryffindor was playing Hufflepuff and as usual he wished for Potter to fall off his broom, but he would never have thought that it would actually happen. Suddenly, when Diggory and Potter were chasing after the Snitch, the air turned icy cold. Even though it was raining and a strong wind was blowing, this coldness was extreme and he knew what it meant. The stadium fell silent and Severus leant forward to see countless Dementors gliding over the pitch.

Severus felt terrible all at once. But even though he knew the influence of the Dementors well, he was not prepared for the feelings that now rushed in on him. He let himself fall back into his seat, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. This was not just the usual, familiar pain and guilt, there was more now, fresher memories that he could see quite vividly: he heard Remus's voice telling him to stop, felt his hands on his chest when he pushed him away, felt the inadequacy and the humiliation, all mixed with images from his childhood and the war, of the laughter, of all the frightened faces pleading for mercy, of the disgusted look on Albus's face, the disgust in Remus's voice … He could have screamed with anguish. It was hard not to pass out. And then it was over.

Severus raised his head slowly, carefully, shaking slightly, and looked round. The other teachers were staring down at the pitch, Albus was gone and Severus had the distinct feeling that his wish had come true and Potter had fallen off his broom. If he couldn't withstand one Dementor, he certainly couldn't do it when there were a hundred. Severus blinked a few times to clear his vision and tried to suppress the foolish urge to run up to Remus's rooms and throw himself into his arms to be soothed. Damned aftereffect of the Dementors' influence. He got up on shaky legs and walked to the stairs to descend to the ground. He could see the Dementors gliding back to their posts, chased by a phoenix Patronus, and Albus hurrying towards the castle with a stretcher hovering by his side. Probably it was Potter lying on it, unconscious. Severus was feeling a little dizzy and disoriented when he made his way back to the castle on wobbly knees. The rain kept falling relentlessly and overhead blinding lightening was followed by deafening thunder. It was as though the world had decided that today was a good day for it to end.

After he had arrived in his rooms and locked the doors behind him, Severus stripped his wet robes and fell into bed, pulling the blanket over himself. He was still shaking and he felt cold sweat running down his face. The guilt was overwhelming, the despair insinuating. He couldn't bear it. And he couldn't bear the pain Remus's rejection had left inside him. He had been stupid to let the werewolf get to him. But he couldn't make it undone. And he wasn't sure if he wanted to. For it had not been purely negative had it? Now the Dementors were gone, Severus also remembered the kisses, the conversations, the tea. Remus had understood him, hadn't he? No matter what Severus had felt or said, Remus had understood. Had it all been a lie? And if it had, was Severus absolutely sure that he didn't want to be lied to just so he could feel better? His own feelings were no lie and it was real when he wanted to be close to Remus right now. He hugged the blanket to his chest, pretending it was the werewolf, deciding not to be ashamed of his pathetic behaviour just for now. But he was not a fool and he was too proud to let himself be made one.

He stayed in bed all day and when evening drew near he drifted off to a restless sleep. On Sunday he woke early and went to breakfast, where he was quite alone for a while before the other teachers joined him one by one. Severus was relieved that the werewolf wasn't among them. It would only remind him of yesterday's indignity and mortify him. He would have to avoid Remus as well as he could to keep at bay the pain that he felt when he saw his face. Albus's twinkling eyes, which were fixed on him, made him get up and leave as soon as he had finished his toast, taking his coffee with him. He didn't want to explain to the Headmaster why exactly he didn't look after the werewolf even though he knew that he must be much worse than after the last full moon. He just wanted to forget all about that. To shake off the Dementors' influence.

In his office he brooded over the homework he had set his seventh-years at the beginning of the week, rereading the same sentence six times, not taking in a word of it. He still felt terrible and he couldn't think of anything but the fact that the werewolf had probably used him, played a wicked game with him and messed with his feelings more cruelly than even Severus could have imagined. And that he had been right in the beginning about the dangers of allowing such a relationship to form. He wished dearly that he could just hate him, but he couldn't, Remus was too much like Severus imagined an ideal – good God – _lover_ , or rather, he had presented himself like that. Maybe it had been Severus's inadequate skill at affections that had caused this outcome. So it might have been his fault in the end. Which was worse even than all other possibilities. So he liked to go with Remus's betrayal, which was hard to bear but didn't cause him as much mortification. But nothing would make this problem go away. Severus was desperate. A knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts and he knocked over his cup of coffee, swearing violently.

"Come!" he said irritably, cleaning up the mess with a swish of his wand, as the door creaked open to reveal an extremely tired Remus Lupin, looking quite sick and pale with dark rings under his eyes like on the day after the Blue Moon. His overall air of exhaustion seemed to pronounce the shabbiness of his robes. Severus rose from his chair, anger flaring up inside him as his stomach churned unpleasantly. "What are _you_ doing here?" he growled.

The werewolf seemed completely unimpressed as he closed the door behind himself and walked to the desk. And wasn't that one of the things Severus had found so attractive about him? Right now he was trying very hard not to find anything about Remus attractive, so he couldn't quite tell. "I'd like to talk to you," Remus said in a croaking voice and watched Severus striding to the door to throw him out.

"I think I'd rather talk to Hagrid's Acromantula, thank you very much!" he snapped and wrenched open the door, pointing out into the passageway. Remus sighed but didn't move. He was resolute despite his weakness. Which would have impressed Severus if he hadn't been at the receiving end of it.

"Why won't you listen to me, Severus?" he asked in an unusually impatient, yet weary voice. "I'd just like a quick word to explain –"

"If you don't leave, I shall lock you in here!" Severus replied crossly. Remus didn't give in, though. There was no smile on his face now, not at all. But he stayed where he was.

"Do if you must, but that will not make me go away, as I am sure you realise," he said and was impertinent enough to sit down on Severus's desk, looking quite as though his legs wouldn't carry him anymore. After a moment of stunned silence from Severus's side, Remus raised an eyebrow at him and looked a little smug as he said, "Go ahead, then. I can wait until you return, at least I won't have to run after you then. Which, make no mistake, I would do if I had to. I can ignore my dignity rather well."

Severus did not move, his hand on the doorknob, glaring at Remus and wishing that he could just transfigure him into something slimy and suspend him in a jar. Remus looked into his eyes and once again Severus felt more violated than if he had been seen through with Legilimency. "I want you to _leave_. Now!" snapped Severus and gave the door a shake, making it creak again. Remus shook his head. He looked determined.

"Please, Severus, I only want to know why you're so angry at me so we can sort this out," he said softly, and indeed, he looked as though he would not move an inch before Severus answered. He appeared quite calm, but his eyes were piercing, and Severus saw that his hand was gripping the tabletop convulsively.

"You ask why?" Severus snapped and gave him his darkest, most accusing look. "Isn't that obvious? I should think for a man who sees through everyone it would be easy to figure out something so simple. I shall certainly not do you the favour to enlighten you. It is already impertinent enough of you to turn up here and harass me!"

"If I harassed you, I ask for your forgiveness," said Remus, lowering his head a little to look at Severus from under his eyebrows with a somewhat wicked mischievousness that startled Severus for a moment with its suggestiveness and made his treacherous head light. "I did not intend to cause you displeasure, Severus, I merely wanted to explain what you seem to have misconceived. I merely crave to talk to you for one of your precious minutes. It is important to me that you should understand. Then you can decide for yourself if you still wish to throw me out or lock me in to let me starve."

Severus was already suspecting that there would be no getting rid of the werewolf, for he seemed ready even to use his wand to prevent Severus from removing him from his vicinity. But there they were, two stubborn wizards, one more defiant than the other and it was either a cause of violent strife or of exciting romance, Severus just didn't know which he preferred. For now he did not want to think about it, though, so he tried to stand his ground.

"I must disappoint you, I have no interest whatsoever in listening to another cock and bull story from your mouth, so leave me alone!" he spat and made to walk away in the hope of at least drawing Remus out of his private rooms. But no such luck, instead of getting up and following Severus – who had thought that he could shake the weakened werewolf off halfway up the stairs – Remus stayed put and called after him.

"Do I have to make a step vanish to make you listen to me?"

This remark stopped Severus effectively and made him walk backwards until his back touched the door and his hand rested once more on the doorknob. It had struck a raw nerve. What an unspeakable impertinence to mention this fateful incident that had been followed by … Severus glared at Remus, who was looking steadily back at him, the corners of his mouth twitching. And when Severus saw this trace of amused triumph, something occurred to him. Well, two could play this game. It would be easier than ever to trick this unsuspecting dunderhead into drinking a cup of tea without wasting a thought on what Severus could put into it.

"Very well," he said slowly, trying not to give away his own feeling of triumph as he stepped back into the office and closed the door behind him. Remus got up from the desk, looking expectant and satisfied at once. "If you only require a minute, at least I will have the rest of my life's minutes all to myself. Follow me."

Remus chuckled a little at that but Severus thought that this chuckle was different, rather nervous as Remus's hoarse voice broke, rather more high-pitched than usual. Remus's voice was usually deep and rich, today his chuckle did not sound remotely like it usually did. Was it Remus's fear that Severus suspected him of helping Black, or was it the topic of their relationship that made him uneasy, or his worries how Severus would react to his explanations? Perhaps he was embarrassed, after all, like Severus would be. Perhaps … _Stop speculating, Snape, he will tell you what he wants, and you will be able to tell if he's lying … yes, quite._

Severus crossed to the door that led into his lab and opened it, leading the way through it to his rooms. Allowing Remus to pass him into his sitting room, Severus showed him to the sofa and offered him a cup of tea almost as an aside, giving him a look that he knew would tell the werewolf that he was causing him unwanted trouble and that would tempt him at the same time to accept nonetheless. A glint of that same mischievousness appeared in Remus's eyes as he politely accepted the offer and Severus had to shake off the tingling sensation it left in him.

He made the tea with his back turned to Remus, who was studying his surroundings with the same interest he had exhibited that day he had been in Severus's office for the first time. Maybe he thought that Severus's rooms would tell him something about Severus's innermost self. Maybe they would. But Severus had faster and sounder means to find out the truth about somebody. He silently summoned a bottle of Veritaserum and added a drop of it to Remus's cup of Earl Grey. He had picked the black tea just to torture the werewolf a bit. It was his own brand of quiet mischief and Remus, polite as he was, could not defend himself against it. Setting the cup down in front of Remus – a cup with gold and purple ornaments, not chipped and old like Remus's rather more amiable cups (if one could call a cup amiable at all), to give the werewolf another quiet stab – Severus sat down opposite him and watched Remus glance around for a moment longer.

"Thanks quite a lot," said Remus and his lips formed an unsteady smile that intrigued Severus somewhat. "For letting me in, too. You have it nice, by the way. I imagined it to be darker, but it looks regal, rather, a bit gothic. Nice library. And I'm impressed with your wine cabinet. I was unaware that you appreciate good wine –"

"Could you stop babbling and get to the point? You wanted me to listen while you explain yourself if I am not very much mistaken," Severus interrupted him impatiently and Remus fell silent, as though just having become aware that he was indeed babbling an awful lot of nonsense. He gave an apologetic shrug and cleared his throat to no effect at all.

"Yes, you are right, my apologies," Remus said and took the cup into his hands, seemingly out of pure nervousness and the need to occupy his hands, for he didn't drink from it. His face was stern when he continued, "But first, I'd just like to know the exact reason why you are so angry. Would hate to jump to conclusions that you cannot confirm."

Severus rolled his eyes and wondered if he would possess the nerve to ask Remus to confirm his own countless conclusions. "You know why I am angry," he replied quietly, crossing his legs as he looked at Remus's lips, which didn't help but caused him to avert his eyes altogether, showing a weakness. "You helped Black into the castle, and it is simply ridiculous that you don't just come out with it and be done with it." He didn't want to tell him how he felt about being rejected. He wouldn't humiliate himself even more. Or give Remus the satisfaction of behaving like a betrayed maiden who had expected more from her connection with a knight whose armour had seemed nobler than his character had proved to be. But now as ever, Remus knew exactly right what was going on inside of Severus. And he was not a man to keep a respectful silence about it.

"I was asking for the true reason, not the pretext you thought up in the meantime," he said quite insolently and Severus shot him a deathly glare, which he deflected with a scolding look. "I am not going to honour this ridiculous accusation with any further remark, but that the break-in happened long after you had already left my rooms in something of a rage. Now, it is not difficult to conclude that the real reason for your anger at me is that I pushed you away on Hallowe'en, and then you have merely grown too embarrassed or whatever to admit to it and constructed this silly story about me and Sirius Black being in league to protect your actual problem from prying eyes."

Severus was dumbstruck for a few moments and he saw in Remus's eyes that he had better not even try to deny these truths. Or rather, half-truths, for Severus actually believed that Remus was in league with Black. But if Remus had just let him kiss him that day, Severus would probably never even have suspected it. He might even have been with Remus all day and given him an alibi. Which only made him angrier at himself and even more suspicious. And it humiliated him further that Remus had not even been able to bear his touch to provide himself with said alibi. Not even an important purpose like that had been enough to make him endure it.

"Yes, you pushed me away," said Severus so quietly that he thought Remus might not catch it, "and now you are here to rub it in?"

"No, in fact I am here to tell you that I didn't find it very kind of you to just leave and treat me as though I had done you the ultimate wrong simply because I refused you the intimacies you wanted," explained Remus and his voice was a little cool. Severus gave him a bewildered look. Of course Remus had wronged him. Did he imagine this to have been easy for Severus? Did he think that such things happened to him frequently or that he just shrugged them off?

"What –" he began but did not need to finish his question, for Remus seemed eager to tell him exactly "what".

"Well, I don't think that it is fair to get so angry at me for not feeling up to such intimacies," Remus elaborated and seemed quite serious about this topic that Severus didn't understand at all. The werewolf was acting as though Severus had been the one behaving cruelly. "I was rather stunned when you just left and I actually felt coerced into going after you and giving you what you wanted, just so you would come back. And, personally, I don't think that I should need to feel like that. Don't misunderstand, this doesn't mean that I would not do you such a favour if it was necessary, but I do not believe that that is what a relationship should be built upon … coercion and guilty obligation. It was rather unkind and thoughtless of you to give me the feeling that you were only interested in me as long as I did whatever you wanted, regardless of my own feelings or state of mind, and that you would get angry if I did not feel up to it or meet your expectations. I wanted you to know that."

Severus was speechless for a moment. Remus watched him calmly, and despite his disapproving words, he did not look accusing or angry at all. Yet that only made the guilt crawl faster into Severus's chest. He squashed it violently by crossing his arms. So that was what Remus was trying to do? Make Severus the bad guy? So he had felt coerced into giving Severus what he wanted? Well, he certainly hadn't run after to Severus to do so. He certainly hadn't swallowed his pride there. And apart from that, Severus had not wanted Remus to pretend. He had been upset because Remus had rejected him in the first place. A deed that could not be undone by giving Severus what he had wanted.

"So you are blaming _me_?" asked Severus incredulously and Remus raised his eyebrows.

"Not at all," he said, which only confused Severus further. "I merely wanted to make you aware of how I felt and what I think. Naturally I am at fault, too, because I did not explain myself to you then."

"Explain yourself?"

"Yes, well, I felt hurt when you left," mused Remus, turning the teacup in his hands as he looked into it. "But I also have myself to blame, more than you, because I did not tell you why –"

"Hurt?" Severus almost snorted. "Don't make me laugh. This is not about my leaving, so don't you dare try to make me feel guilty now. This is about your rejecting me. And it is quite clear to me why you did it, no explanation needed."

Remus sighed. "And you see, that, I fear, is utterly wrong."

Severus slammed his fists on the arms of his chair and glared at Remus again. That blasted werewolf would patronise him on top of everything? How dare he? "It is evident!" he snapped and Remus raised his eyebrows but did not contradict. He seemed curious about what Severus thought. "You didn't mean any of it, did you? You only wanted to distract me, gain my trust so that you could let Black in unhindered." His voice was shaking when he said it, not with anger, but with pain and humiliation. He felt sullied then. Yes, quite used, quite undesirable again. "You pushed me away because you couldn't bear me being close to you and you couldn't even muster the decency to hide it!"

Severus expected to be laughed at, but to his utter surprise Remus stared at him quite blankly, as though he had indeed just been told news. Something he had not suspected or even ever thought about before. So, how good an actor was Remus Lupin really? Could he fake this expression of bewilderment, of grave worry when his brow furrowed? Could he actually conceal a lie so well when looking Severus straight in the eye? He rather seemed as though he felt affirmed in his own suspicion that Severus had fallen prey to a terrible misconception.

"That is what you thought, Severus?" asked Remus quietly and there was regret in his voice. "That I used you? That it was all a lie?"

Severus felt uncertain now, but he kept his expression cold and tried not to give away that this reaction had made him doubt what he had felt sure about. Remus's amber eyes were looking steadily at him. "I thought …" said Severus but trailed off, unable to say any more. It was too hard, too awkward to say the words. Remus did.

"You thought I didn't want you?" he asked and Severus averted his eyes, scowling out of the window. Remus sighed again. "Now I feel like I've behaved like a git. I thought you felt ill-treated because I didn't let you kiss me, and I lectured you about it when you really felt ill-treated because you thought I did not want you. You thought I had deceived you. Which, I can assure you whole-heartedly, I certainly did not."

"But you –" began Severus, now feeling even more humiliated because Remus's words had made him feel rather pathetic. But Remus, it seemed, was impatient with him now and wanted to clear the matter up as quickly as possible.

"I knew you had misunderstood something, but how could I have guessed this?" interrupted Remus in a firm voice. "Such things happen because you don't listen to me. You run off without even giving me a chance to explain. Without even telling me what's on your mind. Of course I _did not_ use you! And I _did not_ help Sirius Black. I would have been very stupid to let him in on Hallowe'en when I knew Harry would be in the Great Hall, wouldn't I? And wouldn't it have been equally stupid to rouse your suspicions on that very day by pushing you away? Honestly, Severus."

Severus stared, a little lost for words. Remus had a point of course, if one thought about it, a few things didn't seem to fit together. But still, Remus had rejected him. And he had called Black's name in a dark corridor. And it didn't surprise Severus that a Gryffindor was stupid, that he didn't think everything through, not to speak of two Gryffindors … not this Gryffindor, though. Yes, Remus had a point. But he had still not explained why he had rejected Severus in the first place.

"But then why –" Severus began but was interrupted once more.

"I did not mean to make you feel unwanted, and the last thing I wanted was to hurt you," Remus continued in a milder voice, dropping his eyes once more to his untouched tea. "Actually, my reasons were quite contrary to that. Of course I want you, I feel fortunate to have you. But … I know you cannot possibly understand this, but I felt rather worse this full moon than I usually do and … well …" He paused and bit his bottom lip as though he needed to muster courage to go on. Then he sighed once more. "When you did not check up on me after the full moon I was worried that _you_ did not want _me_ anymore. That I had lost you. It only made me feel worse, so I could not seem to recover."

Remus fell silent then, though he appeared to be struggling with more words that seemed too difficult to utter. Severus didn't know what to say to this. Remus had not explained anything yet and his reassurances meant nothing to Severus as long as he did not hear from Remus's lips the reason for his behaviour. The werewolf seemed sincere and actually Severus's determination to mistrust him was shrinking like his hatred had weeks ago. But the pain was still there and therefore the wish to know the truth. And not just a supposed truth. Not something that sounded true, that could be true. Something that was definitely true. Why didn't Remus touch his tea?

"Why did you reject me, then, if not because you dislike me and what I did?" Severus asked defiantly and was surprised to see Remus avert his eyes as if he felt ashamed.

"Like I said, this will probably be hard or even impossible for you to understand," he said slowly, as though choosing his words carefully, "and I don't pretend to be able to explain it properly. I have never spoken about this to anyone, you see." He paused again and now Severus was curious. Something Remus had never told anyone else? Taking a deep breath, Remus seemed to be bracing himself. "Close to the full moon it sometimes happens that the presence of the wolf is so strong and clear in me that I cannot keep it under full control. I don't usually let it get to the surface, I have learnt how to keep it at bay. But when I am having a rough full moon, it is more difficult, and even more so when strong emotions are involved."

This time the pause was deliberate as Remus met Severus's eyes again, giving him a significant look. Strong emotions … for Severus? Remus gave him a weak smile as he detected Severus's incredulity. "I enjoyed your touch … in fact, I enjoyed it just a little too much," said Remus, his voice so quiet now that Severus had to strain his ears. "So very close to the full moon … well, I just don't feel comfortable when the wolf is so dominant, when I can't be sure if it is really me touching you or … it. I would not want to behave in a way that might appall you. And I do not want to let the wolf's presence defile our connection. It is just … I was afraid, I still am, that you might not want me anymore if you felt the wolf in me, that it might disgust you, and I did not want it to share what I feel for you. You have been tolerant concerning my affliction, but there was some doubt in me whether that would not change if you were confronted with it directly so I tried to hide it from you. Little did I know that you would run off anyway."

Severus was a little taken aback by this seemingly frank information and he was speechless again. Something that didn't happen very often. It gave Remus time to pause again, and gather strength for yet another piece of information that did not seem to make him uncomfortable like the others but rather a little abashed, a little vulnerable even. His eyes flickered from Severus's face to the fireplace and back. Remus seemed uncharacteristically insecure. And yet, when he continued, there was a self-assurance in his voice that Severus had not expected.

Shaking his hair out of his eyes and folding his hands, Remus cleared his throat with a confident smile. "You might call me a fool, and maybe I am but …" he muttered and chuckled nervously again, closing a circle that made Severus think that he was really getting to the point now. Severus felt a nice tingling run through his body at the sound but he positively froze when Remus's eyes fastened on his quite determinedly. "I have fallen in love with you."

Severus would have expected anything – but not this. The words had such an impact on him that he stopped breathing and gaped at the werewolf for a very long moment until he ran out of air. He could barely believe his ears. Had he really just heard Remus say that? When no one had ever said anything even remotely like this to him. His heart raced and he was sure he was flushing. There was a warm sensation inside him suddenly, caused by that candid confession that he strongly wished to be the truth. He wanted to believe it, and he did. Maybe just because it made him feel better and less inadequate than he had in many years. Maybe ever. Remus was still smiling, watching Severus take in his words and search for some of his own. Severus sat up straighter in his armchair and ran a shaking hand through his hair. His nerves were showing, too. How silly, how pathetic. But how wondrous, too.

"You … you mean …" he stammered and he wasn't ashamed of it this time because he thought he had all reason to stammer.

"Yes, indeed," said Remus nodding, his smile widening in the face of Severus's overwhelmed surprise. "I should have told you earlier, I wanted to, but the full moon got in the way and I wanted to wait until I was back to normal. In any case, I'm glad we've talked about it, so there won't be any more misunderstandings in future … you see, it is very important that you are aware of these things … I would hate to make us both uncomfortable. Believe me, I would not reject you if I didn't have good reason."

"In future …" repeated Severus, realising that Remus expected neither an answer nor an apology from him but was willing to continue where they had left off. Remus nodded silently, the corners of his mouth twitching. He had simply had the desire to let Severus know what he felt. Magnificent. Severus was absolutely speechless. He didn't know how the werewolf could feel for _him_ like that but … but it was indeed magnificent to know that he did. And he didn't need any Veritaserum to believe him that he had indeed spoken the truth. He froze at the thought. It seemed that Remus had just remembered the cup in his hands and was about to finally put his lips to the rim, when Severus realised that he had made a horrible mistake.

"Don't drink it!" he cried, and Remus's startled eyes shot up to meet his, as he lowered the cup in surprise

"What is it?" he asked and when he saw Severus's guilty expression, realisation dawned on his face. "You put something in it, didn't you?" he said quietly and Severus averted his eyes, fully aware that he had ruined what could have been a most pleasant situation. "What is it?" Remus's voice was so calm that it sent an unpleasant chill through Severus.

"Veritaserum," he muttered and felt the werewolf's eyes piercing him. A confession of his love should not be rewarded like this. A confession of his love should not lead to something like this. Severus should just have taken the cup out of his hand and kissed him. But then he would not have received his well-earned punishment, and Remus would not have found out just whom he had really fallen in love with.

"You wanted me to drink truth serum? What for? To find out what I know about Sirius?" Remus sounded sadly disappointed and it pained Severus. He had known it was wrong. But he had thought that the werewolf had betrayed him, he had felt hurt and humiliated. He had thought that Remus deserved no better, so …

"I was –"

"You were suspecting me of having betrayed you, of course. That justifies it, does it?" Remus interrupted him again. "You want the truth Severus? You can have it!" And with that he drank the whole of the tea in one draught, carelessly dropping the cup back on its saucer, almost shattering both. Severus stared at him incredulously. "Now you can ask me anything you like. Go ahead, ask me about Sirius, or about my feelings for you. Ask me whether I spoke the truth!"

The werewolf seemed upset and for a moment of weakness Severus felt tempted. But he didn't want to ask him anything. He didn't want to disappoint him even more and prove himself unworthy of his love. And most of all, he didn't want to ask him if he really loved him when under the influence of Veritaserum. That was something that he wanted to believe, something that he didn't need a confirmation for, none but Remus's word. It would lose in magnitude if he asked him for the answer now. And it would destroy the precious connection between them if he did. He knew that Remus hadn't lied. He just knew. And that was a feeling that he didn't want to spoil after having spoilt so much between them already. He wanted to do something right for a change. Save even the tiniest chance of being forgiven. For once he knew what was right.

"No," he said and Remus looked taken aback. "I won't ask you anything. Just go back to your rooms and don't talk to anyone for three hours until the effect wears off."

Remus rose and gave Severus a very disappointed look that struck him to the core. Without another word he turned round, exiting Severus's rooms in long strides, leaving Severus behind with his face in his hands, shame making his conscience even heavier than it already was. He had wanted the truth. And the truth was that all along he had been the one hurting Remus and not the other way around. The truth was that he was being loved. And he would try his best to make sure that it remained that way.


	16. Lesson Sixteen: Good Men And True

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: And now, the conclusion ... Hey Guest :) thanks so much for the huge compliment! Don't worry, I'll continue this story, no matter what :).

* * *

 **Lesson Sixteen: Good Men And True**

As a result of his own shameful behaviour, Severus did not quite dare approach Remus on Monday. He was sure that Remus appreciated this, for his mood seemed to drop considerably throughout the day and the reason was no mystery to Severus. His classes must be complaining to him about the homework Severus had set them, the essays about how to recognise and kill a werewolf. In retrospect, Severus didn't know what had got into him. It had been a moronic idea. And Remus was right to be angry. Severus expected to be scolded by Albus but apparently Remus did not want to involve anybody else, least of all the Headmaster. Severus did not think that he deserved such mercy, the only offence he hadn't committed was, after all, to inform Albus how behind the classes were in his opinion – which was, admittedly, not Remus's fault at all. And as it seemed, Remus was doubtful, too, whether Severus should be forgiven, because he barely showed signs of even recognising Severus when they passed each other in the corridors.

Severus did not even feel better after having taken fifty points from Ronald Weasley for throwing a crocodile heart at Draco, and usually taking points from Gryffindor always made him feel better. Only one of those smiles Remus had always reserved for him could help now, but it was unlikely that Remus would volunteer one. Severus also waited in vain for Remus to approach him about the homework and if something like that didn't make Remus talk to him, Severus was sure that he would be the one who had to take the initiative. He paced his office, thinking about how to go about it. Finally he resigned himself to the fact that the most apparent way was also the only possible one. But to Severus it was also the hardest. There was no other choice now, so he climbed the stairs to Remus's office in the evening and braced himself for a row when he knocked on the door. It took a few moments for Remus to open, and Severus already thought he might not be in, but then the knob turned and the door was pulled ajar to reveal Remus's face, then opened wider as Remus saw who it was. He looked expectant as he leant against the doorframe, crossing his arms.

"Severus," he said without preamble and it made Severus even more uncomfortable. He knew what to say even if Remus did not ask for it, and it seemed that he did not want to. Severus had thought it through many times on his way upstairs. But the words were stuck in his throat and it was hard to get them out. It didn't really surprise him that those words did not come easily.

"Remus," he said and hoped that the use of his first name would soothe Remus's temper. Merlin only knew if it worked, Remus gave nothing away. "I need to … speak with you …" _My admiration for this absolutely_ ridiculous _announcement, Snape, you have outdone yourself_.

Remus raised his eyebrows in absolutely understandable scepticism. But it seemed he was ready to listen, otherwise he would already have slammed the door. So, after waiting for some kind of verbal reaction that Remus didn't give – and right he was – Severus took a deep breath and went on. "I'm …" he said and hesitated, scolding himself for being so hopeless, "I wanted to …" He faltered once more and caused Remus to knit his eyebrows and heave a very disquieting sigh. Well, either now or really never. Severus swallowed his pride and braced himself. "I want to apologise for my unworthy behaviour, Veritaserum, homework, and all, and assure you that I know it was a mistake and that I shall try my best never to do anything like it again."

Remus considered him closely for a moment, then he lowered his eyes and looked as though he could barely keep a straight face, his lips conquered by a smile before he managed to suppress it. Severus's heart was immediately lighter, as though his worries had been entirely unfounded. When Remus looked at him again, though, still standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, blocking the way into his office, he managed to look quite stern again. Severus had not meant to be amusing anyway, and now he found it quite insolent of Remus to smile about an apology that had cost Severus so much strength. But he supposed that, from Remus's point of view, it was rather funny, really.

"And that is all?" Remus said and his voice was firm but his eyes were encouraging and the corners of his mouth started twitching again. Severus took a step towards him.

"What else can I do to make you forgive me?" he asked and Remus shrugged.

"I think you already know that, Severus," he said quietly, giving Severus a meaningful look that was as good as an invitation. Severus took his hand rather tentatively, but before he could go any further, Remus pulled his hand away and stepped back to let him in. "But you don't necessarily have to do it in the hallway," he chuckled and Severus scowled at him, shuffling into the office.

When the door closed, he reached for the werewolf once more, pulling him closer by the hand before bravery could leave him again, and, giving him a searching look, closed the gap between them until their chests touched and his nose was tickled by Remus's hair and smelled his sweet scent. Remus buried his face in Severus's shoulder, digging his fingers into the fabric covering Severus's shoulder blades, and he let himself sink against Severus as though his own legs wouldn't carry him anymore. Severus embraced him awkwardly, resting his temple against the top of Remus's head.

"So," he whispered tentatively into Remus's hair, "this means that you … forgive me?"

Remus chuckled softly into Severus's shoulder. "You are quite silly," he muttered and it was all Severus could do not to be offended. But when Remus pulled back he gave Severus a disarming smile that would have made Gilderoy Lockhart, the fraud, turn very green with jealousy, and that would almost have knocked Severus off his feet. "How could I not forgive Severus Snape when he goes to the lengths of asking for it? I'm sure that doesn't happen very often. I was already bracing myself for a longer wait, but your apology is all I need to know that you are truly sorry."

Severus did not quite know what to reply, so he nodded absently and cast around for something to say, to diffuse the tension. And thankfully he found a glass box in the corner where the other creatures had used to reside in the past weeks. It was inhabited by a Hinkypunk, staring at them voyeuristically, quite wispy, and though Severus was sure it should sleep at this time of day – there was a cloth lying on top of the box, which told of the fact that Remus knew this, too – he was quite sure that Remus had kept it awake just to have some company. Remus followed his gaze and picked up on his train of thought before Severus had even made an attempt at conversation.

"Ah, you have spotted my Hinkypunk," he said pleasantly, drawing back from their embrace and leaving Severus's arms painfully empty. How ridiculous. It was not as though they had touched like this often. "I got it for today's third-years lesson …" Remus approached the box and looked fondly at the creature.

"Ah, yes," said Severus, "I thought you might. Granger said something about starting on Hinkypunks."

Remus looked round at him with a slight frown, an expression he must have worn all day. "You know, if you had actually taught them something about Hinkypunks, then, it would have helped me greatly. Now I have lost a whole lesson."

Remus's voice was quite calm and yet Severus felt as though he had been punched in the stomach, but he tried to cover it up. "You are right, of course …" he said and knew that he could indeed have been a great help to Remus, who had lost precious time to an illness that was Severus's fault. "I have no excuse."

Remus smiled swiftly, though his brow was creased. "Well, though I provided my notes as reference, I must admit that I did not really expect that you would use them …"

Severus had a sudden wish to redeem himself but he couldn't come up with anything helpful, so he settled for something which was quite unworthy of Remus. "I would not for anything in the world have taken from you the pleasure of showing them the creature and teaching them everything there is to know about it. I know how you enjoy it, and you really are more of an expert than me, when it comes to creatures."

Remus chuckled and draped the cloth over the Hinkypunk's box before he turned to enter his rooms. "A good try, Severus, at charming my wits out of me," he said and there was teasing, not anger, in his voice. "But you have yet to master the art of making us both forget the truth you want to cover with your nice words. Watch me do it, you might learn a thing or two."

Severus followed him wordlessly into the sitting room, sitting down on the sofa while trying to find out whether Remus was still angry or rather irritably amused. One never quite knew what Remus was concealing with that smile, that mild voice, those placid eyes. But when Remus joined him on the sofa with two cups of white tea, there was no mistaking his stern look for anything but disappointment and worry. Severus braced himself yet again, quite sure that now there would be a quarrel, if not one that threatened their relationship, then certainly one that would be quite unpleasant. Still, when Remus handed him a steaming cup, their fingers brushed and they lingered in this touch for quite a few long moments. A good sign, surely.

It was only after having taken a few sips that Remus revealed what was troubling him, setting down his cup upon his knee. Severus wondered if the warmth left there by the cup would be pleasant to the touch and considered finding it out. Quite an intimate place to touch, a knee, only for lovers, surely. He felt his mind drifting away and willed it to stay focused on Remus, who raised his eyes to him and opened his mouth to say something that would surely chase away Severus's thought of touching the werewolf's knee.

"I have told my classes that they needn't do your homework," Remus said very quietly, and indeed, it made Severus stiffen uncomfortably where he sat. "Though I did collect those few essays that had already been written and I will have to do a short excursion on werewolves at least in my OWL and NEWT courses, and perhaps the third-year classes as well. Now that the harm has been done, I might as well get it over and done with. Otherwise I might just deliberately forget about teaching anyone anything about werewolves."

Severus rubbed his neck, feeling shame burning it raw. "I did not … I wasn't …" he started but faltered at his own incoherence. Remus sighed and let his eyes wander away from Severus's face. This made Severus find his voice, "I don't know what came over me, it was wrong and childish. I cannot deny what I wanted to achieve for it is only too obvious. I can only hope that you feel no lingering chagrin. I do realise that I crossed a delicate line …"

And he did understand, for he would have felt quite horrible if Remus had tried to make everybody realise he was a Death Eater. Surely, Remus's feelings must be even worse, for his lycanthropy was a condition that he suffered from daily, in every imaginable situation. A secret far more well kept and its revelation more frightening than anything Severus could imagine. It was a matter of personal space, intimacy and trust. Severus had already been let in on this painful part of Remus's life further than anybody else, necessarily so, and a violation of the trust Remus placed in him concerning this most intimate secret of his must hurt immensely. Even more so because Severus, whom he – as he had confessed – loved, had sunk so low as to try to make others aware of his condition to achieve his egoistic goal of getting Remus sacked. Glancing into Remus's sad eyes, Severus felt a sudden urge to clarify that he was not ignorant about this.

"I know how you must have felt, it was not a mindless act, as much as I would like to pretend so," he said softly, "I did it because I knew what it would mean to you. My cruelty knows no limits sometimes … but I regret it. I shall not trespass like that again, rest assured of that."

"So you don't want to get me sacked or killed anymore?" Remus said quietly, meeting Severus's eyes. Severus could not bear to hold his gaze now, he felt his conscience pressing down on him.

"Of course not," he said rather roughly. "I was furious with you, disappointed and … I did not think it through, I thought you had deceived me and I felt dreadfully foolish … but not anymore. I know that none of these reasons justify my actions but … if you'll still have me …" He faltered as Remus took his hand, now balancing his cup on his knee without support.

"That is all right, you have apologised, after all," said Remus seriously and smiled quite openly again. "I know you are … quite impulsive, sometimes, especially when you've been hurt, I suppose. I did not _mean_ to hurt you, of course, but since there has been this tremendous misunderstanding between us, I have less difficulty forgiving you. We are so different, we'll have to learn how to deal with it. Makes our bond stronger."

He cleared his throat, for his voice failed him at the last syllables and he took his cup with the hand that wasn't holding Severus's to take a gulp of tea. Severus took this opportunity to move his own hand – which was cupped by Remus's, their fingers interlaced – so that it rested on the spot where the cup had sat. Indeed the warmth lingered there and it was quite pleasant, quite intimate to cover Remus's warm knee with his hand. Remus did not pull away, allowed the intimate touch and encouraged it by squeezing Severus's hand and shifting his knee so that Severus had better access to it.

"I did not expect …" Severus began but stopped himself. He had meant to mention Remus's confession, but since he had no answer to it, he felt it was rather dangerous to talk about it. It was fine relishing it in silence. His eyes were glued to his hand on Remus's knee, still cupped by Remus's warm palm and caressed in gentle circles by Remus's thumb. He ought to say something more, he knew. But he had never had such a conversation before, had never had such a relationship before. This was meaningful and he thought that he only had clumsy words to destroy it. "I did not expect you to be willing to try and make this work with me. After all, I am not going to become any less difficult." He thought he had done a good job, covering up what he had initially meant to say, but Remus's hand tightened on his and when he looked at him, the werewolf seemed very much aware that this was not what had been on his mind at first. But he did not go into it.

"Severus …" he sighed, "every relationship involves a certain amount of pain and hardships. If you aren't ready to face that, you had better back out now. But be aware of what you would miss. I know what I would be missing if I chose not to try. Sometimes you must make an effort and bear the pain to reap a reward. And I hope that you'll agree with me that it is worth the pain?"

There was no question as to which answer Severus would give. He looked down at their hands again and thought back to the confession Remus had made. He nodded firmly and when he met Remus's eyes again, he found him smiling radiantly. Clearing his throat in awkward embarrassment, Severus averted his eyes again. "At least I can assure you of that one thing …" he muttered, unconsciously squeezing Remus's knee. "I am used to pain but I have never known it to result in pleasure. To be so vulnerable in your presence seems dangerous still."

"Oh, well, happiness is neither easily earned nor is it constant," said Remus ponderously, "you must always pay with a certain amount of pain, I'm afraid. That contrast is what makes happiness what it is. Maybe we will always experience more pain than pleasure, but if that pleasure is worth the pain we must endure to experience it, I think that we should not hesitate to risk being hurt."

Severus, who was very good at hesitating whenever any kind of emotional pain was involved, had listened closely and was grateful for the sensible encouragement. Still it was difficult for him to indulge in this relationship with Remus without thinking of the consequences. For it was quite probable that, one day, one way or another, there would be an end to the pleasure. It cost him all the strength he had to let it happen. Any change to Severus's secure life was uncomfortable, even though he could see the light of Remus's presence shine clearly through the darkness, calling out to him. The prospect of allowing somebody to get to know him so well that he could easily destroy him was quite an unsettling idea. Trust was what he needed for it, trust was what he sorely lacked. For good reason. Could he really trust Remus?

It was only when he felt Remus's hand leave his own to touch his face instead that Severus snapped out of his thoughts to find Remus's eyes again. There was amusement in the crinkles round Remus's amber eyes. His fingers were warm and gentle on Severus's skin. And Severus wanted more. "I believe," whispered Remus, leaning in until their lips were only an inch apart, "that we have already bought a lot of pleasure with an acceptable amount of pain. If you remember that you hated me when I first arrived here … and now I feel quite special when I am with you, because I know that you wouldn't let just anybody hold your hand."

"No one," breathed Severus and their lips met in a tender kiss that was quite welcome to Severus. He wasted a swift thought on the fact that Remus's kissing was rather refined and made his own much less obviously clumsy, for which he was grateful, then he wiped his mind blank – at which he was a master – and simply appreciated that he was able to kiss Remus like this. And when they broke apart, some of his insecurities had vanished into Remus's mouth to be swallowed whole, whereas some of Remus's warmth lingered within Severus, as a reward for taking another step towards Remus. Breathing rather heavily, Severus threaded his fingers through Remus's soft gold and silver hair, receiving a warm smile as Remus pressed into his touch and shuffled closer to lean against him. Remus rested his forehead against Severus's temple and kissed his jaw and Severus shivered in pleasure. A pleasure for which he had indeed paid with negligible pain. Feeling suddenly powerful in Remus's presence, he squeezed Remus's neck and laid an arm around his shoulders, pressing his cheek against Remus's. And there was a question burning on his tongue then, a question that had bothered him for a while now, one that seemed safe to be uttered.

"Why did you drink the tea?"

Remus was silent for a few moments and Severus felt his eyebrows elevating against his skin. "Well, I believed that you would do the right thing," he said quietly and Severus tried not to think that that was foolish. "Or at least I hoped you would. Forgiving you would have been far more difficult if you hadn't."

Severus pulled back a little to see if this was true. It was plain in Remus's eyes that it was. And Severus _did_ think that it was foolish. Quite foolish, indeed. Severus found that nothing could be put past him, no matter how horrid it was. But Remus … Remus had trusted him. Even though he had already been betrayed. Admittedly, Severus _had_ done the right thing, but that did not justify Remus's trust. A trust that Severus would never be able to return.

"That is foolish," he muttered and sipped on his tea when Remus cocked his head to the side to look at his face.

"Maybe so," conceded Remus, "but I don't regret it."

"Perhaps one day you will," retorted Severus, not quite sure why he was arguing at all.

"Perhaps," said Remus.

There was a silence, quite deep and impenetrable. It was as though something shifted around them in the air. And Severus felt the topic vanish as though Remus had penetrated his mind to make it go away. The werewolf did not seem eager to pursue the conversation any further and the silence stretched. Severus already thought that this "perhaps" might hang over them forever, that this silence could never be broken. But Remus seemed very good at breaking even such silences, and he did, running his warm hand slowly down Severus's arm.

"Severus?" said Remus, searching Severus's eyes and smiling when he found them. At once, Severus had the notion that Remus wanted to talk to someone about something very important. No, not to just anyone – to Severus. And other than Severus, he was not hesitant about such things, he admitted them straight out. "I wondered if I might talk to you about something that Harry said to me."

Severus withdrew his arm from around Remus's shoulders. He could not possibly be close to Remus like that when Potter was in the room with them. He had to admit that he would have preferred a few more minutes' silence over talking about Potter again. It was not really a question, either, and Severus did not have the feeling that he would impress Remus if he refused to talk about the brat, but that he was given the theoretic possibility to refuse made him much more willing to agree than whenever Albus gave him no choice in the first place. He felt pleasantly manipulated as he rolled his eyes to indicate his annoyance but nodded to signify his attention.

Remus's smile widened but then his face grew stern. "He told me what he experiences when the Dementors draw near him," he said gravely, "not that I hadn't formed my own conclusions already. Naturally I told him that it was not weakness that made him faint – he seemed rather concerned about that. After all, the things that lie in his past are far worse than anything any of his peers could possibly imagine. After I had assured him of this … he told me that just before he faints he can hear his mother's last moments – he hears what she said just before she was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

Severus flinched slightly at the name. He rather hated it when people said it, as though to appear especially brave. Well, if one thought that risking an extremely painful death was brave, then Severus could not contradict. Turning away from Remus, Severus folded his arms tightly over his chest. "Don't say his name," he hissed and Remus made a startled noise. "You should know very well what he did to those who used his name, those who were especially _brave_. The slowest and most painful deaths were reserved for them."

Remus patted Severus's thigh, making Severus jump, which again made Remus chuckle. "I am aware of that, Severus, but since Lord Voldemort is currently not in any position to punish me for it, I am going to keep calling him by his name," he said mildly but firmly. "As soon as he regains power, I will consider stopping to say his name …"

"It is difficult to discard a habit, such a dangerous habit at that," snapped Severus, for he thought that he knew more about this than Remus. "You had better discard it as soon as possible. The Dark Lord always made examples of those who defied him. Would it not be a pity if you were to be one of those examples next time?"

Remus was silent for a while and Severus knew that they disagreed. And when Remus spoke, he chose a very delicate course for his retort. "You call him 'the Dark Lord', I call him by his name," he said quietly and his voice was somewhat cool. "I do not see why I should be less incensed than you."

Severus looked sharply at him. "I must call him that," he spat angrily. "I have always called him that, as you well know, because I was his follower and a spy. What if I need to take up that role again?"

Remus shook his head, raising a placating hand. "I know, forgive me …" he said softly. "Yet it is a name that only Death Eaters use. It sounds respectful and admiring. Things he does not deserve. He deserves to be looked down upon, to be despised. I use his name because I don't fear him, and I'm going to keep using his name. The only thing I ask of you is to respect this. Just as I respect your opinion."

Severus narrowed his eyes at him and gave him a glare that would have forced anybody else into submission. But Remus was as unimpressed as ever and even though Severus did not like Remus to stick to his silly habit, he also felt some distinct attraction, at that very moment, to this staunch Remus. Scolding himself for worrying foolishly that the Dark Lord might still be able to hear his name when uttered by foolish Gryffindors, Severus turned away again, huffing in frustration. He didn't want Remus to be a victim of the Dark Lord's wrath but he could not possibly admit to it honestly. And those who were brave insisted on their bravery, no matter how silly or dangerous it was. But then again, wasn't that the exact definition of bravery? And of a Gryffindor? Silly and unafraid of danger.

"Very well, but do refrain from saying the name in my presence," he said reluctantly and when Remus made to argue he added, "You were saying? Potter told you …?"

After a moment of stubborn hesitation, Remus sighed in defeat. "Well, as I was saying – when the Dementors draw near him, Harry hears things too horrible to endure," he said softly, passing a hand over his forehead. "After everything he has already gone through, I find it particularly cruel that he must be confronted with those wretched creatures that are supposed to ensure his safety. When he told me – Severus, I could not even comfort him … I'm a complete stranger to him, only his teacher. He has no idea that I held him in my arms when he was just a baby." Remus paused for a moment, balling his fists on his knees. His face gave nothing away but his body language told Severus that Remus regretted deeply that he had not been allowed to see his best friends' son all those past years. He would surely have wanted to be something like a father figure for Potter. But nobody had been allowed near the boy. Severus supposed it must be hard on Remus that Potter, who was all that was left of Remus's happy past, did not know who he was, did not know that they had suffered the same loss. It must be hard to keep the appropriate distance to a boy who was supposed to be no more than a student. Finally Remus collected himself and carried on, "Quite understandably, Harry asked me if I could help him defend himself from the Dementors – he was very insistent, which is quite understandable considering what happened at the last Quidditch match. And I admit, I was quite willing to cave. So, after the holidays, I am going to teach him the Patronus Charm."

Well, but that was a little much. Severus spun round, almost cricking his neck, to stare incredulously at Remus. "Excuse me?" he snapped and Remus raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. "You cannot possibly give the boy private lessons, you of all people! Favouring a student, this student on top of everything. Albus will not approve –"

"Actually," said Remus calmly, raising a hand to stop Severus, "I must contradict you on that point. I have already spoken to the Headmaster and received his permission. And he seemed very approving to me." He paused and Severus was at a loss for any effective retort for a while, which allowed Remus to continue after a moment's silence. "As to favouring students … don't you think that in this case I am justified? Don't you agree that Harry needs somebody to help him, to guide him?"

Severus nearly snarled, grasping Remus's wrist. "You are in no way obliged to be that person," he said firmly, ignoring Remus's understanding smile. Just what the werewolf thought he understood, Severus could not quite fathom. Or rather, he did not want to. "You are under no compulsion –"

"Oh, but I think that that is exactly what I am here for," replied Remus, as though stating the obvious. "I am the right person for this. If only because I have a very personal interest in Harry. And I also feel as though … it is my duty."

"Your feeling is wrong, then," said Severus angrily, rising from the sofa to pace in front of the fireplace. "Nobody expects this from you. To Potter you are just another teacher, you said it yourself. You barely know the boy. Only because you harbour some silly sentimental affection for him due to his parentage that doesn't mean that he deserves your attention!" He caught Remus's eye at that moment and saw a searching expression there. "What?" he growled at the werewolf, feeling uncomfortable with that look that was very similar to Albus's piercing blue one.

Remus shook his head, rising to his feet as well as he put his hands in his pockets and shook his greying hair out of his eyes, all in that warmly nonchalant way of his. "I was just wondering why you don't want me to teach Harry the Patronus Charm," he said, ambling round the coffee table towards Severus, brushing his shoulder deliberately against Severus's as he passed him on his way to the window. "I would feel flattered if I could believe that you merely don't want to share me with anyone. Maybe you really think that my presence is an honour that Harry does not deserve – which would, admittedly, make me blush – but why do you feel so strongly about it? Is it that you merely don't like him? Which would again prompt the question why you are so angry with him that you would not even allow somebody else to teach him a spell to make his life easier. Maybe there is one answer to both questions?" Severus did not reply but stared at the back of Remus's head, cursing him. After a few moments, Remus turned round and gave him a quizzical smile. "As I have heard, you disliked Harry from the very beginning, or rather, you hated him," he said softly, "without any apparent reason. That he is James Potter's son cannot possibly cause much more than your normal dislike of Gryffindors? As I am told, you only hate students if you have some sound reason – from your point of view – but Harry had been here for one day when you already loathed him. I'm interested in your reasons."

Severus tried to stop his mind wandering into directions which were wholly unwanted in Remus's presence. This was not a topic he wanted to talk about. What did his reasons for hating Harry Potter matter? Why was it not enough for Remus that Severus loathed the boy because of his father? Why wasn't that enough for anyone? Well, Remus knew that that wasn't all. He could not know the whole truth and Severus would not tell it. The whole truth was not for Remus to hear. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But Remus asked because he knew that there was more and that knowledge was what made Severus talk. It was liberating that Remus knew and that Severus just had to talk as though he was telling Remus what he was already aware of. He did not feel vulnerable then, but relieved.

"I was the one who told the Dark Lord about the prophecy thirteen years ago, the prophecy that made him hunt down Harry Potter," he burst out and felt a lead weight coming off his shoulders that had been the secret he had kept from everybody but Dumbledore. Remus's verdict would be the one he would endure – and accept. Remus's expression became quite unfathomable, but that didn't stop Severus. "If it had not been for me, he would never have killed Potter's parents. Every time I look at that boy I see what I have done, the lives that were lost because of me, the suffering I spread. He is the living reminder of my crimes. He is incorporated guilt and shame. I hate him for that just as much as I hate him for being who he is. Most of all I hate him because it is my fault that his parents died and he does not even know. It is just as well that he hates me, it is what he ought to feel. I loathe him because he is the son of the man who tormented me at school, and because he too torments me with his mere existence. The sight of him fills me with guilt and remorse – I can hardly even bear it. I can hardly bear that he of all children, a Potter, should be the one to do so."

For a few silent moments, Remus gazed at Severus as though he had to let the words sink in before commenting on them. Severus could not bear to look at him without touching him, but because he did not dare touch him, he got up and approached the window, steadying himself on the windowsill. As he looked out over the dark grounds, he wished, pleaded silently for a verbal reaction to his confession. Remus never failed to offer his opinion. What took him so long now? Did he not see that Severus needed it dearly? But then again, Severus had just admitted to having caused the deaths of Remus's best friends. Surely that was something that Remus needed time to stomach, not to speak of telling Severus what he thought.

But apparently Remus was made of sterner stuff than Severus had thought. Finally he cleared his throat, not because he felt uncomfortable, but because his voice would have failed him, Severus knew when he heard how hoarse it was. "You could not have known that he would go after that particular family, could you?" he asked mildly, and Severus was sure that Albus had told him all about the prophecy. "As far as I know, the prophecy stated no name and could have applied to two children. He was the one who decided that the child in question was Harry, not you. You could not have known that he would choose Harry or that Harry was even one of the children in question. You did not tell him to kill Lily and James, did you? And as soon as you knew what he was planning, you told Dumbledore that they were in danger."

Severus was quite taken aback by this understanding reaction and he nodded slowly at Remus's reflection in the windowpane. But he felt bitter still, and even a little put out that Remus would not reproach him. Guilt was eating at him and he longed for Remus to touch him, but he would not ask for it now. "I did change sides then, yes," he conceded, "but still – if it had not been for me –"

"I do not deny that you made a mistake, Severus," said Remus placidly his reflection slightly distorted as he stood quite still behind Severus. "You were a Death Eater, serving your master, it was just another service, wasn't it? I find that it is far more important that you did the right thing when you realised what you had done. Thanks to that, Dumbledore could make arrangements to hide the Potters. What happened afterwards was not your fault. Their deaths were the result of a string of events, of several misdeeds of which yours was certainly not the worst."

Severus did not comprehend why Remus was so understanding, even comforting. His calm, soothing voice was in stark contrast to what Severus would have expected. How could Remus treat Severus so well after having heard that he was partly responsible for the deaths of his dearest friends? Severus could not help but feel even worse than before. He deserved Remus's hatred, not his understanding. He buried his face in his hands, not even hearing Remus approach him, and he started slightly when he felt Remus's arms closing around his waist and Remus's warm cheek coming to rest between his shoulder blades. Severus had wanted to be touched by Remus, but now that the touch was there, and as intimate as this, it was too painful to bear, and it didn't even surprise him. The fact that Remus touched him like this now was almost incredible.

"Do not blame yourself for things you could not have changed," Remus whispered, tightening his arms around Severus. "Things you have long atoned for."

Severus turned forcefully out of Remus's arms, shoving him away roughly and holding him at a distance with a hand extended to his chest. "Why are you behaving like this?" he snapped in confused despair. Remus did not flinch, but looked back at him, his face quite serene. "Why don't you throw me out, why don't you curse me or yell at me? Why don't you hate me for what I have done?" _Any of that would be easier to bear than this!_

Remus's eyes saddened and Severus almost staggered with the sudden realisation that Remus was sharing his pain. It was a tremendous feeling. "Is that what you want?" asked Remus in barely more than a whisper. "To be punished by me? Would that relieve your pain in any way? To be punished by somebody who is, I hope, quite close to you? Someone who should soothe you, whom you should be able to trust with such secrets? I have no wish to punish you, Severus. Those wounds healed long ago, though leaving scars, they hurt no more. You should allow yours to do the same.

"I have lost everybody who was dear to me, yes. But not because you betrayed them. It was one of our friends who betrayed Lily and James, somebody we trusted, somebody whom we would never have suspected. He was at fault, not you. He was the one who had a Secret to keep that he sold to Darkness. You weren't one of us then, nor did you mean them to die. You did not kill them with your own hands, you did not even tell anyone else to do it, you had no idea what your information would cause. And though ignorance is no excuse, believe me that you are the last person I blame for what happened. The Potters' Secret Keeper and best friend is the one I blame.

"I would not give up my love for you simply because you made a mistake when you were very young. Don't ask me to hate you for it. I couldn't. Of course your role in what happened weighs heavily on you, but to take all the blame on yourself is wrong. You have punished yourself enough, now it is time to forgive yourself, Severus. It is time for you to leave all that behind and focus on all the good things you have done to atone for your mistakes. I don't want to see you suffer, you don't deserve it. And far from punishing you, I forgive you and hope that it makes the burden of your crimes a little lighter at least."

Severus's hands were shaking. Surely he did not deserve this, Life was playing a trick on him. A man such as Remus, forgiving him, telling him he was not at fault, after years and years of guilt … Severus thought he didn't deserve any of this. "I begged for my life like a helpless child when I met with Dumbledore to give him the information," Severus pressed between clenched teeth, the memory mortifying him. "I was sure he would kill me in an instant – so disgusted did he look when he laid eyes on me. He did not kill me, though I would have deserved it. He probably did not think me worth the curse."

Later, when Severus had wanted to be dead, Dumbledore had not granted him that, either, Severus recalled, and knew that he had not even deserved that quick redemption and that Albus must have known as much. Was torturing him now by keeping him like a watchdog for Potter. This existence was what Severus had to bear, this was what he deserved. But now, with Remus here, Severus found it far less difficult to live with it every day. And Remus's words just strengthened that feeling.

"Albus gave you a second chance," he said confidently, "because he saw that you wanted to make up for your mistakes."

At this, Severus snorted mirthlessly. "He did not want to throw away a useful tool," he said bitterly. "He wanted to know whether I brought a message from the Dark Lord. He did not kill me because I made myself his slave and became his spy. But he did not value my life above that of a cockroach."

Remus shook his head and looked certain that he knew better. "He cares about you," he said matter-of-factly.

"I am of use to him, here and now, and possibly in future," said Severus darkly, averting his eyes for he did not want to see Remus pity him. "There is nothing more to me. Nobody cares about me."

"I do," replied Remus firmly and Severus glanced at him, almost embarrassed, almost flattered, remembering that this man had, not so long ago, confessed his love to him. His love. However had Severus so inadvertently caused Remus Lupin to fall in love with him? Love. A sentiment that, Severus both loathed and felt ashamed to admit, he could not return in like or even think about feeling. It was far too painful, far too dangerous. But Remus had embraced this vulnerability for a man who was unworthy of it.

"Pray tell me, Remus," Severus whispered, for he could not speak the words loudly, "I am by no means a good man, which you know full well, so why – how – can you be so good to me?"

Defeated, Severus leaned against the mantelpiece, quite sure that he had never met a better man than Remus. And when Remus stepped closer, Severus knew that he had no right to want him, that he should be ashamed of himself for letting this happen. But he did want him, he wanted to be soothed by him, to be told that he did not need to feel guilty, that he could not have changed anything and that he was not at fault. Severus wanted to be embraced by him, to feel better for being close to him. Remus could heal another dark part of his mutilated soul. And he could not but let Remus pull him into a warm embrace, caressing Severus's back in soothing circles, whispering just as soothing words with his lips brushing against Severus's ear.

"I know that you have your dark sides, Severus," he said and his voice was as warm as his arms, "but there is always grey in between black and white … and even though, or maybe because you have confessed these things to me I know that you aren't a bad person. I can see the bottom of your soul. I see _you_ , and all that is good about you. That is why I love you. Such a powerful feeling is not easily daunted. And even though you might not have realised it, you are very good to me, too."

Remus tightened his arms around Severus and Severus let himself be held for a long time, just standing together in front of the window, enjoying the warmth and the absolution, realising to his surprise that solace, which he had never known and never believed in, was indeed a far more effective way to relieve pain and guilt than punishment could ever be. Punishment he knew well, had received from everybody, all his life. But solace was new to him. It was redeeming. But maybe that was just Remus, maybe just his arms. When they finally broke apart, their tea had turned cold, and the tears that had fallen unnoticed from Remus's eyes had dried. And at this moment, brushing his cold fingers over the streaks the salty drops had left on Remus's warm cheeks, Severus was sure that not even the most magnificent potion, creating the most blissful illusion, could achieve anything quite like this feeling. And as Remus leant in to kiss him, Severus knew that nobody was entirely black or white. Only Remus. White as the blinding light of the sun. White and warm. The rest of the world was grey.


	17. Lesson Seventeen: Burnt Child

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: Merry Christmas, everyone :) I'll have another chapter for you tomorrow, as a present! WTFHP, it won't be long until Sirius comes into the picture again, and I think you're right to be looking forward to it ;).

* * *

 **Lesson Seventeen: Burnt Child**

After having disclosed some of his darkest secrets to Remus and been treated so unexpectedly well in spite of it, Severus felt far closer to Remus than he had believed possible after such a short time. It was Remus's reaction that gave Severus a feeling of odd security, which was extremely comfortable. Maybe dangerously so. But whenever they sat together, whenever they talked or merely exchanged looks, sometimes heated, sometimes meaningful, often just longing, Severus felt warmly safe.

Which only made it harder on him to bear the long periods of time that they could not be in private with each other because Remus's timetable was too full to allow personal enjoyment. It was not that Remus would not let him in when he knocked on his door, but even those short moments were strained because of Remus's workload.

Severus was slowly starting to worry about Remus's mental health. Remus was not just awfully tired almost all of the time, sometimes Severus even saw him fidget with stress when confronted with a large pile of homework, waiting to be graded. One day, when they were sitting opposite each other in the staffroom, Remus's behaviour strengthened Severus's suspicion that this much work did not do him good after so many years of desperately searching for positions and finding none. "That pile of homework is evil," he whispered and looked quite paranoid as he bent over the table to get closer to Severus, shielding his mouth with his hand as if he thought the pile of homework could hear him. "It just won't get smaller, it is laughing at me!"

Severus meant to reply something but the sound of the door closing distracted him and as he looked around to find the room empty but for himself and Remus – Sprout and Vector had just left the room for their classes – he was taken by surprise by Remus closing the last gap between them and kissing him, first on the cheek and then, as Severus turned his head towards him, squarely on the mouth. Severus flinched back in his chair and broke the kiss in the process. Remus, who was leaning over the tabletop on his elbows, gazed at him, a crooked smile on his face, and for once seeming entirely unconcerned by the work lying on the table before him. He cocked his head to the side, giving Severus a curious look, and his brow creased a little.

"Are you averse to my kissing you, Severus?" asked the werewolf then, and Severus felt his neck growing warm. "I hoped that you would not object. Perfect opportunity, really. Alone for once. But if you'd rather not, I suppose I will have to find a different relief from my work."

"Ridiculous werewolf," Severus muttered. "That door isn't locked. Anyone could come in at any time!"

Remus chuckled, sliding back into his chair and much further away from Severus than absolutely necessary. Another one of his mature pranks. His silent mischievousness. Well, not so silent today. Rather hoarsely laughing. It was all teasing temptation with Remus today. That look he gave Severus as he glanced at the door … And if Severus was honest with himself, now that he thought about it, he was not at all averse to being kissed, right here, right now, by this werewolf. His rational part, however, was less inclined.

"I am used to taking all kinds of risks, perhaps I am too careless when it comes to such details," said Remus and his nonchalance was, as ever, very charming. He flashed quite a broad smile at Severus and pulled his papers towards himself to start grading, dropping his eyes to the pile of homework. "Was hoping for some tenderness …" he muttered, as though to himself, and it made Severus stiffen. He should perhaps use this opportunity before it was gone and they had to wait for another one.

After a few moments of contemplating this thought, Severus rose to his feet and walked casually round the table, taking the longer route. On his way, he found that there was a crease forming between Remus's eyebrows that looked quite disapproving. He probably thought that Severus was leaving when they could finally be among themselves. So Severus walked in a wide curve towards Remus, so that the werewolf would not see him coming, and laid his hands carefully on Remus's shoulders, making him start slightly and then chuckle again, warmly. Severus bent down until his lips were level with Remus's ear and he enjoyed how the werewolf's hair tickled his nose.

"If you wanted tenderness, you should perhaps not have chosen a Slytherin to give it to you," Severus whispered and congratulated himself on not looking furtively to the door when Remus moved his head so that their cheeks touched. There was a slight stubble on Remus's jaw, invisible unless it caught the light to glint golden.

"I don't believe in clichés, Severus," replied Remus huskily, "there's much more to you than your house." And he sighed when Severus squeezed his shoulders tentatively. Pulling out the chair beside his own, Remus turned towards Severus to give him a meaningful look. "I have felt those hands and they are as tender as I could wish for."

Severus sat down beside him, trying not to avert his eyes, and when Remus leant in quite mercifully, aware that Severus would not do it himself, Severus shivered in anticipation of that kiss. In an unlocked room. Where anybody could enter at any time. Severus strained his ears to hear if the door opened for he could not keep his eyes open when he felt Remus's tongue between his lips and Remus's arms round his neck. He thanked Merlin later, when the bell rang to call them to lunch, that nobody had walked in on them, in a close embrace and kissing, their elbows sliding over the tabletop, knocking over the evil pile of homework, their legs entangled, not a word exchanged in a whole hour.

Severus, who had never experienced anything like this, just let it wash over himself, let Remus take the lead, hoping that his unskilled kissing was satisfactory to the werewolf. It was always Remus who initiated these intimacies, and he did so in quite a pleasant way, quite refined and sensual. Severus just let it happen, let himself be guided by Remus, slightly stiff and clueless, he had to admit. Remus appeared to be feeling comfortable nonetheless, compensating for Severus's inexperience and making it much more comfortable for Severus, too. But they had not, up to now, kissed for so long, with nothing else on their minds. Their previous meetings had been much more chaste than this, much more dominated by conversation. This part of their relationship had not been as intense and cultivated. Remus seemed determined to change that. Maybe he had lost patience with Severus's timidity. Maybe he had longed for this. And now that they were doing it, Severus knew that he had longed for it, too. Had longed to touch Remus like this. Like a lover.

Remus seemed to be feeling quite guilty for neglecting his work and gave Severus a few days to contemplate this new role he now had in Remus's life. It was quite exhausting to experience such intimacy, and it would probably wear him out with time, yet he would have preferred to be able to decide for himself if he wanted to be with Remus or not. But he did not have that privilege.

Assiduous as he was, Remus wanted to get his work done quickly yet properly, so as not to make the students or the Headmaster wait, while keeping the quality of what he brought forth as high as possible. In Severus's opinion, despite everything he had told the students while filling in, Remus's work was more than agreeable. He was so precise in his preparations that Severus thought that even if he put only half as much effort into his work as he did, he would still provide good quality. But the werewolf seemed so determined and eager to prove that Albus hadn't made a mistake when he had appointed him, that nothing could convince him to relax a little.

Of course this cost him very much time and energy, which made it nearly impossible for him to spare what would have been, in Severus's eyes, an appropriate amount of time for Severus. It would only be a matter of time until Remus collapsed over his breakfast one day, fainting from exhaustion. Severus saw his head nodding dangerously every morning, his eyes falling shut and flickering open again when he woke from the weight of his head pulling him down. Remus would start and rub his face but it would only take him a few minutes to nod off again, quite precariously, over his bacon and eggs. Remus did not reveal the reason for this tiredness to the other teachers. He told them it was because of his late-night reading habits, chronic insomnia, or whatnot. Even when talking to Severus he had once blamed it on the cycle of the moon – Severus being the only one he spoke to openly about his lycanthropy and therefore the only one who would hear this excellent, yet futile, excuse. Severus had seen through it at once and told Remus that it offended him to be lied to like that. Remus had apologised at once and admitted that the workload was causing him trouble, that he could not handle it and thought that it was his ill time management, his wasting precious minutes that seemed to be a relic of his time in unemployment.

Severus should perhaps have had some words of encouragement for him, but that just wasn't like him and he only noticed that it would have been proper after Remus left again. Remus did not seem to mind very much, though. He seemed to be appreciating Severus, didn't expect him to do anything that wasn't like him, but – good God – _loved_ him as he was. But Severus, who knew he wasn't perfect, wanted to treat Remus especially well, even if he had to make an effort and do it consciously, he wanted to make up for the rest of the time, when he just wasn't treating him at all well. Remus was important to him now. And Severus enjoyed seeing him smile. Most of all when he smiled because of Severus.

So, one Wednesday evening, when he had some time off, Severus decided to pay the werewolf a visit. He could not deny that he was missing Remus's warmth, being near him, because they had not had much time for each other since the full moon. Which was even more of a pity because they had had that horrible misunderstanding and had no chance yet to make each other forget about it. These thoughts quickened his pace as he strode through the corridors, as did the anticipation of a welcoming kiss.

When he knocked on Remus's office door, he did not receive an answer immediately. It took two more tries to trigger a grunt of admission, and when he finally opened the door, he saw at once that it was good he had come: Remus sat slumped in his chair, his forehead pressed to the desktop, which was in a mess of papers and books and quills and ink pots, his arms were lying limply on the desk, and if Severus didn't know better he would have thought that the werewolf was unconscious. When Severus stepped closer, subdued worry driving him, Remus raised his head, which was apparently the weight of a boulder, and gave him a lopsided smile.

"Severus," he croaked, "how charming of you to descend on me. If not entirely unexpected on my part."

Severus crossed his arms and wondered if Remus just acted like he was a Seer or if he really had the ability to foresee everything Severus did. Tapping his foot on the floor, he tried to get over this indignation before saying anything. Remus needed tenderness now, Severus thought, not irritation. He took a deep breath as he watched Remus straighten up, his amber eyes changing expression quite slowly. But when Severus did speak, he could not suppress his irritation, after all.

"You already sound like Trelawney," he growled irritably. "How is it that you seem to know what I am about to do before it has even occurred to me?"

Remus cocked his head to the side in that nonchalant way of his and his smile widened, chasing the tiredness away for the moment. "I have a certain feeling for you, Severus," he said softly, and it made Severus feel embarrassingly warm. "But I have a better question for you: How do you manage to never look tired or exhausted even though you have even more work than I?"

Severus raised an eyebrow and his lips curled into a smirk. "I am never ill," he replied silkily, and was quite pleased to make Remus chuckle hoarsely. Remus sank back into his chair and heaved a dramatic sigh.

"Absolutely never?" he asked desperately.

"Absolutely never," affirmed Severus truthfully. He could not recall even one occasion on which he had been so seriously ill that it would have justified missing class or staying in bed. The occasional sniffle could, after all, be remedied easily. As Severus approached Remus, he was slightly surprised by the continuing presence of the Hinkypunk in the corner, which glowered at him. Remus buried his face in his hands when Severus reached him.

"Well, it is not as if I could achieve that," he mumbled, his voice muffled. "I will simply have to work harder."

"Even harder?" asked Severus, walking round Remus behind his back, brushing his shoulders with his elbow, just to touch him. "I rather think that you need a break. And perhaps you should consider getting rid of that creature – and the others – if you cannot even take proper care of yourself."

Remus turned round in his chair to give Severus a look that was in-between scandalised and entreating. "You can't be serious, Severus, I cannot just get rid of them," he said hoarsely, giving the Hinkypunk an almost tender look. "We have grown attached to each other."

"They aren't pets," growled Severus, grasping Remus's elbow to both force and help him out of his chair. "They don't grow attached to anyone or anything. You sport an unhealthy degree of silly sentimentality when it comes to your little roommates."

Remus rose with some difficulty, taking full advantage of Severus's support. "They keep me company …" he said thoughtfully. "I … I cannot usually bear complete loneliness."

Severus glanced at him as they started moving towards Remus's rooms. His stomach churned a little. His tongue would almost not obey him. "If you crave company," he replied slowly, "you are welcome to ask for it."

Remus's kiss to his cheek almost made him melt. His skin flamed. But he was able to pull himself together and drew his wand to set fire in the grate as Remus sat down on the sofa. For a moment, Severus hesitated to sit beside the werewolf but thought that it could be misinterpreted, or mocked, if he did not, so he sat down a little closer to him than he had meant to and Remus misused his shoulder as a pillow almost at once, snaking his arm round Severus's.

Remus's satisfied sigh was enough to prevent Severus from shrugging him off, which would have been his first impulse. He was rather surprised at the intimate gesture, for they had not been this close in quite a few days. Not that he would complain. The warmth was quite pleasant, the closeness, too. They were slowly getting used to each other. Very slowly these touches ceased to feel unreal and unfamiliar. But at least for Severus there was still a long way to go until they would become natural. He had never been touched like this, had never touched like this. He wondered if Remus had, as an adult, experienced such situations often, or if his loneliness had been as great as Severus's. Admittedly, Severus had chosen it, Remus's was forced.

Severus could have sat with Remus like this forever, in peace and silence, quietly gazing at Remus, who was dozing already, carefree. But after a few minutes, Remus sat up straight again, making to go back to work in a bit of a haste. Severus caught the werewolf's wrist automatically to hold him back. Remus sank back on the sofa at once, giving Severus an expectant look. Severus was not quite sure just what Remus expected, but he suspected that it had something to do with the tenderness Remus had covertly asked for the other day. Severus didn't know if that was what he wanted, but he knew that it wasn't what he didn't want. He didn't want Remus to go away, that was all.

To cover up this weakness, Severus glared at Remus. "You need rest," he said softly, "you look as though you were about to collapse."

Remus smiled vaguely, dropping his eyes to Severus's lips as he came slowly, almost unnoticeably, closer. "But, Severus, I still have work to do," he replied mildly, as Severus felt himself stiffen at the prospect of Remus planning to kiss him.

"That can wait!" he said in a firm voice. He usually wasn't concerned about other people's health but this time it was different. And it wasn't exactly selfless. He wanted to spend more time with Remus and how could he do that if the werewolf worked himself unconscious? Apart from that, Remus's exhaustion worried him and he would feel guilty if he didn't do anything about it. "Your body needs a break after the transformation and the sleepless nights. You cannot strain yourself until you end up in the hospital wing. For I shall not visit you if you do …" He added this on a spontaneous thought and saw it take effect immediately, just as he had expected.

Remus chuckled hoarsely, and finally closed the gap between them to press his lips against Severus's, warming Severus quite rapidly. It was so silent in the room that Severus actually heard the sliding of their lips against each other and the soft smacking when Remus broke the kiss. "And is that because you wouldn't want to be seen with me," the werewolf asked in a resounding whisper that rippled over Severus's face, "or because you'd want to punish me?"

"Why is it always either or for you Gryffindors?" retorted Severus, now almost as hoarse as Remus. "Why can't a man have both?"

Remus chuckled once more but disrupted himself by kissing Severus again, a little roughly this time. And there was no hesitation in Remus to stay with Severus, right here, instead of going back to work. Though Severus thought it was not his health that he did it for. When Remus pulled back, he slumped against the back of the sofa and rubbed his probably stinging eyes with a sigh, shuffling so close to Severus that their shoulders touched.

It was a new kind of pleasure that Severus was quite unfamiliar with. Remus and he had not yet spent any time like this, just sitting together, just enjoying each other's company. Severus had not been aware how nice it could be to be with someone like this, sharing body warmth, and how soothing it was. Usually he only sat in Albus's company without any specific purpose. And it was quite different to sit with Remus, not only because Albus did not usually touch him. Severus was not usually comfortable with being touched. But Remus had changed everything. Everything ... well, maybe not quite.

The pattering of rain against the windows disrupted the silence. It was a typical November day, cold, foggy, dark. In short: uncomfortable. But suddenly, Severus saw that sharing Remus's warmth actually made it a good thing that it was a typical November day. It was cosy inside, a fire in the grate, sitting close together. On a warm summer's day, Remus might not be sitting this close to him. Severus froze almost constantly in autumn and winter, but chasing that coldness away together was quite pleasant. He noticed the coldness of the castle even more when he wasn't with Remus, whose soothing warmth became more addictive by the day, while the weather was growing ever colder and the stone walls were turning to ice. Even a fire needed to burn for hours until they had heated a room, and of course it couldn't compare to the werewolf's body heat.

There was a strong magnetic force in Severus, and in Remus, too, no doubt, that seemed to be pulling them towards each other. Severus for his part was quite sure that the origin of this lay in Remus's warmth, which he was desperate to feel. Glancing longingly into Remus's direction, he found the werewolf shivering slightly, so slightly that the motion was not transferred to him through the contact of their shoulders. Remus's eyes were closed and his brow creased. If it was stress or cold that made him react like this, Severus could not say. But there was something else he could say.

"I could give you a hand," he offered in a low voice, "with your work."

Before even opening his eyes, Remus gave a chuckle. "I do not want to seem ungrateful, but I don't think that you would actually help," he said, turning his amber eyes on Severus with an amused grin. "I would have to go over it all again to make sure that the children won't be shocked out of their skins by all their bad marks."

A smirk passed over Severus's face. At least he had managed to cheer the werewolf up a little. The small smile curling Remus's lips was a reassuring sight. Severus wondered if Remus would allow a kiss now. Well, why wouldn't he? But Severus was too timid to try. Even though the amber colour of those eyes was truly stunning. He wasn't at all expecting the hand on his leg when it appeared and the sudden heat sent his heart racing, making him start a little. The werewolf's golden eyes, misty with fatigue but just as piercing as ever, found Severus's. And it looked as though Remus had seen Severus's thoughts, once more without Legilimency. But he did not say anything, simply ran his hand up and down Severus's thigh as he cocked his head to the side, his greying hair falling into his eyes.

"But if you'd really like to help me you could count the points and write the marks on the homework," he said mildly, and, Severus thought, fondly. "Only if you promise to give them the marks I intended, of course." He was amused again, the wrinkles round his eyes deepened. Severus scolded himself for finding this handsome and raised an eyebrow. "No need to give me that look, Severus, I was told how you talked about me in class, disapproving of my way of teaching, claiming that I am giving too good marks."

Severus shook his head, clicking his tongue. "It is clear that our ideas of good homework differ quite a lot," he conceded, "but it would be more than obvious that I had a hand in it if Potter suddenly dropped from full marks to none at all, so never fear."

A bright smile spread over Remus's tired features, making him look so much younger. "Then I accept your help gladly," he said and moved his fingers over Severus's leg in an absentminded caress. "That is only if it isn't too much trouble. I'd hate you to neglect your own work to help me."

Severus suppressed a shiver and gave the werewolf a disbelieving look. "Don't worry your noble Gryffindor head. Let me help you."

Remus's eyes glittered a little when he leant in to seal Severus's lips with a short but grateful kiss and the rest of the evening was spent in pleasant silence disturbed only by the rain hammering against the windows and the rustling of parchment between Severus's fingers, while he counted points and scratched them into the top right corners of the parchment with bright red ink. After a while Remus dozed off, his head resting on Severus's shoulder, his hand on Severus's leg. The werewolf's even breathing calmed Severus, and he felt at peace and extremely comfortable, sharing his warmth. Severus was oddly pleased and afraid at the same time to feel that they were gradually growing closer.

When he had written the assigned mark on the last scroll of parchment, thus finishing his – or rather Remus's – work, it was already half past one in the morning and Remus was sound asleep on Severus's shoulder. So as not to wake Remus by shifting position, Severus used his wand to stack the homework on the coffee table. Remus's breath was rippling over Severus's neck. Severus glanced at his sleeping face out of the corners of his eyes and decided to stay a little longer just to watch him and to appreciate this intimate situation. It was more unreal than it should be.

His hand moved of its own accord, rising to Remus's pale cheek, brushing the soft skin, which felt like silk under his own calloused fingers. Remus stirred and Severus froze. But then he thought that Remus would probably like being touched. He usually reacted well to Severus's touches. He probably hadn't been touched a lot in the past years. And it was evident that he craved Severus's closeness when he buried his face in Severus's neck. Severus sat stock still, silently marveling at the situation he was in, concentrating on Remus's breathing.

When Severus raised his eyes to the dark, rain-spattered windows, he saw their reflection in the mullioned panes, flickering in the rhythm of the flames, only the rain drops clinging to the glass disturbing the picture of them sitting so incredibly close together on the sofa, illuminated by the firelight and standing out of the darkness behind them like an apparition. Severus frowned. It was hard to believe that he was seeing himself there. Only a few weeks ago he would not have let Remus within three feet of himself and punished even the slightest attempt to touch him with a decided jinx to Remus's forehead. But they looked quite peaceful, the both of them. And though it looked strange, it felt right.

It was already well past three in the morning when Severus finally made the decision to leave, and only because he was so overwhelmed by fatigue that he threatened to nod off and bump his head against Remus's, which was not dignified at all. He regretted leaving this privileged position, with his face buried in Remus's hair, breathing in that sweet scent of his quite unashamedly. But he moved Remus carefully to be able to get up, slowly lowering him on the sofa cushions, and straightened his robes, turning to leave silently, when he heard a sleepy voice behind him.

"Sev'r's … where you goin'?"

Severus looked over his shoulder at Remus, who was squinting up at him, the firelight too bright for his tired eyes. He was already rising, looking as though he didn't at all want Severus to leave. Without hesitation, Severus shed his teaching robe and draped it over Remus as a makeshift blanket, pushing the werewolf gently back into the cushions.

"Nowhere," he whispered in a very low, hopefully soothing voice. "Just go back to sleep, Remus."

The werewolf pulled Severus's robe tightly around his body and closed his eyes, falling back asleep almost instantly. Severus sighed with relief. He needed to leave now, otherwise he wouldn't get any rest at all tonight. Slightly resentful, he left the werewolf's rooms with a last glance at Remus's reflection in the dark window, floating among the raindrops, sadly lonely without Severus. He was glad when he had left all the cold corridors behind and arrived in his bedroom after what seemed to have been an endless walk on weak and tired legs. He didn't even bother undressing, he just fell into bed and a second later sleep engulfed him.

After breakfast next morning, Remus shuffled into Severus's office, having knocked politely, to return Severus's robe with a vague smile and unmistakable teasing in the way he looked at Severus from underneath his eyebrows. It made Severus feel sheepish. A feeling he barely knew and which wasn't helpful at all when facing Remus.

"Thank you for this, Severus," said Remus, handing the robe to Severus, who took it from him with a curt nod, trying to conceal his embarrassment at his own caring gesture. "And for your help, too, of course. Your presence was a blessing last night."

That remark gave Severus a warm feeling, a swooping of the stomach, a heat in the back of his neck. He cleared his throat and shook his head as he gathered up his notes for his first lesson. "Not at all," he said, as was his habit. Surely Remus had already come to expect it, like he already knew that Severus was coming down a corridor just by the sound of his steps on the stone. "I'm glad I could help."

It would have been a lie to say that he had expected Remus's arms round him, though he supposed that he should start to anticipate such touches. He was being hugged. Quite tightly. Warmly. He did not know how to react, so he simply stood still, not moving a muscle, not even blinking, waiting with bated breath for whatever came next, like an ornithologist, trying not to startle a rare bird and make it fly away. For Severus always feared that Remus might be put off by whatever he did and feel rejected, that he might turn away and leave. Perhaps for good. At least Remus did not seem to mind Severus's passiveness at all, apparently aware that his hug was more than welcome, though still quite strange. Like a new friend.

After a few moments that seemed like a warm eternity, Remus pulled back a little, but as Severus thought that he was going to withdraw completely, the werewolf first pressed his lips to the corner of his mouth and then kissed him, not fleetingly, not briefly, but indulgingly. His lips were just as warm as his hug was and his mouth tasted of maple syrup. Severus let himself be swept away by the sensation, and only thought that he had no idea how he had managed to make Remus Lupin kiss him like this yet again. He supposed he was hopeless. He might never understand.

Remus's hands were running up Severus's back in a slow caress when there was a rustling and the sound of paper hitting the stone floor, waking Severus from his kiss-induced trance. He only noticed that his eyes had fallen shut now that he opened them, seeing Remus's amber ones as the werewolf withdrew, letting their lips part quite silently. They both looked down simultaneously and saw that Severus's grip had slackened so much that he had dropped his notes to their feet. Remus chuckled and Severus knew it was because he realised that this was his doing. Severus hadn't even noticed. He had quite forgotten that there were notes in his hand, or an office around them, or classes they had to teach. He would have stayed here letting Remus kiss him forever without this wake-up call.

And when Severus looked at Remus again, he noticed that the moment was over and all the intimacy was already out the door. And Remus was about to follow. His hands were already leaving Severus's back. Severus wished that the intimacy would not only appear sporadically like this. It wasn't constant. He wondered if it would ever be. But he had a feeling that it was his fault. Remus created such moments, after all. And as he stooped to pick up Severus's notes, Severus thought he looked as though he regretted that they had fallen and startled them out of their kiss.

"I'd better go," said Remus, handing Severus his notes and slowly backing away towards the door, "I'm already late. As usual." He chuckled, running a hand through his hair and giving Severus that mischievous wink. "Better reason today than just oversleeping. Definitely better." As Severus did not reply because he was at a loss, Remus opened the door and gave him that vague smile again. "Have a very nice day, Severus," he said hoarsely and before Severus could even blink, Remus had left.

Over the following days Severus only had the pleasure of meeting Remus alone when they were patrolling the corridors at night. He had noticed that they were always on duty together and suspected a greater plan of Albus's behind it, though he was ignorant to the motive and didn't want to speculate lest he came up with something he didn't want to think about. The first time they came across each other, Severus would almost have been cursed into oblivion because he startled Remus, who was humming to himself in absentminded or possibly bored cheerfulness, by stepping out of the darkness behind him and poking a finger into his back, right between his shoulder blades. Quite typical that the one time that he was playing a prank on someone he would end up with burns in his robes created by the sparks bursting from Remus's wand as he whirled round with a start.

After Remus's hurried apologies, they ended up patrolling the corridors together, Remus ambling, Severus with a stride in his walk, as Remus had remarked. Their hands brushed every now and then and Severus noticed incredulously that Remus actually meant to take his hand and hold it. But it never came to that, for they would both start in paranoia whenever there was a sound or movement in the darkness. So they barely touched at all. It made Remus chuckle and Severus sulk. In the end they said goodnight at the foot of the stairs between the second and third floor, Severus descending, Remus ascending. Just before Remus had turned away completely, Severus leant towards him a little in a subtle gesture of expecting a … well, yes, a goodnight kiss – it cost him an enormous effort to even admit it and to lean in as if automatically. He was glad Remus couldn't see his face in the shadow of the suit of armour beside him.

Remus's face was illuminated by the moonlight that flooded in through the window, though, and Severus could see surprise being replaced by a warm smile as Remus stepped closer, cupping Severus's face with his hands to kiss him. This time it was short, due to their exposed position perhaps, but Severus was satisfied and returned to the dungeons with a spring in his step. He scolded himself on the way for being so pleased by a kiss and tried to force some of that feeling out of his body, failing miserably.

Their following nocturnal meetings weren't quite so chaste, perhaps because more time had passed since their last private encounter or because the werewolf had dropped his guard due to Severus's reassuring reaction to his affections. Thus Severus found himself being pressed into the cold stone wall by an eager werewolf, who had lost no time, after a short greeting, to press his soft lips against Severus's.

Not that Severus would complain. Despite his surprise, he welcomed Remus's initiative. He just didn't feel familiar with this sort of intimacy, yet. It was still an obscure mystery to him and sometimes he wished _he_ were the self-assured one, guiding Remus along, not the other way around. But Remus seemed to be acting on instinct rather than thought, something Severus wasn't altogether good at in any particular field, apart from battle, perhaps.

Severus could not quite bring himself to take a more active role yet. He felt insufficient and clumsy, quite inexperienced and unused to being so close to another person. So Severus remained rather passive, doing nothing but responding. Not that he didn't know what he'd _like_ to do, he just didn't dare do it, lest Remus didn't like it. He didn't want to try, he wanted to do it right. Silly perfectionist thinking. But he wanted to have a visible effect on Remus for a change, like Remus did on him. Of course that attitude prevented him from doing anything at all, which made Severus angry at himself.

Severus couldn't bear showing a weakness. Even now, with his back against the cold wall and his lips covered by Remus's. He wanted to impress. He usually managed it, too, in his own métier, the potion-making. He liked the way Remus looked at him when he talked about potions. It was overt admiration. And that smile that produced crinkles around his eyes. What he didn't fancy was being told off or laughed at because he touched Remus in the wrong place or at the wrong time or in the wrong way. And he could not possibly get out of his skin. He was usually all cool reservation and kept his emotions at bay. Such situations demanded the opposite. Remus certainly seemed like the opposite.

Severus just wasn't used to anyone liking – _loving_ – him. How would he know what to do in such a case? Not even as a child had he experienced an overly large amount of affection, therefore the werewolf's outpouring of it was too much for him to handle. Though, Severus suspected, Remus was still holding most of his affection back, so as not to overwhelm Severus. Maybe he also thought that too much was unwelcome. That Severus thought it annoying. He didn't. But he saw why Remus would think so. Severus didn't show too much affection himself, after all. It wasn't like him, even if he did dare.

He wanted to leave everything physical to Remus for now. The werewolf appeared to know how far he could go, anyway. Which was probably the reason why his mind grew rather foggy now and he let go of all his thoughts to touch Remus's jaw instead, to run his fingers through Remus's hair, indulging in his taste and scent. That was all he could do. Although he hated to admit that he was relying on Remus to take the lead, cursing himself every time they parted for not having done anything but receive, he enjoyed these moments.

But though he had come to expect these kisses during a patrolling night, he did not grow used to them. Standing in the shadows together kissing was still as unreal as it had been the first time. It was like Remus had said a few weeks ago: if he took it for granted, maybe it would go away and leave him with greater feelings of loss than if he took it as something special and rare. As if it were bad luck to get used to it. Silly, really.

Though they were passionate kisses, they were still painfully tender. So tender that Severus wondered if it was really him kissing the werewolf or if it was some divine entity possessing him. He couldn't believe that he was even capable of so gentle a touch. Dumbledore would say that it was the Gryffindor influence. Severus knew that only the werewolf could make him behave like this, it was his gentle guidance which enabled Severus to indulge in the intimacy. Sometimes he even thought that if it weren't Remus he was kissing, he would be a complete failure at it.

Severus's mind was still troubled by fears of course. He realised one day that, actually, he clung to those fears to make sure that he wouldn't be surprised if the werewolf left him one day. It wouldn't be so painful, because he would have been expecting it. Severus knew that Remus wouldn't like that attitude, but he couldn't help it. He was quite certain that one day the werewolf would be tired of with him, one way or another, and leave to find someone better suited, even though he believed him that, at the moment at least, his feelings were genuine. Severus just couldn't believe that a person like Remus would really want to be with someone like him.

Usually Remus would stay in the shadows with Severus for a while, arms around his waist, head resting against his shoulder, letting himself be held firmly, as their quickened breathing slowed together, heartbeat against heartbeat. It was soothing when they stood like that, Remus whispering so softly that Severus didn't even catch most of his words, and could only enjoy the hoarse sound of his voice and the damp heat of his breath against his neck. It made Severus's brow crease when his eyes were fixed on Remus's retreating back, while he thought about what in Merlin's name the werewolf saw in him, what he gave to Remus in return for all that pleasure. Nothing, really, he reasoned, ambling back down to the dungeons in the early morning.

Remus had said that Severus made him feel special, because Severus did not let anyone else hold his hand. Severus still knew exactly how Remus had said it and what his voice had sounded like, and he wondered if that was all it took for Remus, who had always been made to feel inferior, whom most people wouldn't want within fifty feet of themselves, to fall in love. In love with Severus. In love. It still sent a tingling through his body when he thought about that confession. He had not replied of course, had been passive like at their every meeting. It would have been impossible. It was still impossible to imagine replying in like.

He fell into bed, hoping for some rest before his classes, but his mind was full fit to burst with that thought. Love. Even though he didn't even want to think about it, didn't know what to think, and if the thoughts came, whether he'd like them. Remus obviously didn't expect him to know, or to have an answer to that confession. It wasn't as if Severus could give him one anyway, so he was glad that none was demanded.

Severus didn't know what to call his feelings and felt quite averse to giving them a name. Love was such a vulnerable feeling. He had little experience with relationships in general and found that attachment was already risky enough. Love was … unthinkable. He feared that short word. Too dangerous. And if he never said it, it could not be used against him. If he didn't say it, Remus would never have an inkling of how much he really meant to Severus. Or maybe he would. But Severus would not hand him such a weapon. Such a very destructive weapon. Severus had suffered enough.

Severus didn't know if what he felt could be described as love, or if it would ever be fit to carry that name. He liked to paraphrase it. It was definitely a deep affection. Their relationship had been built on a very emotional foundation, after all. He appreciated Remus's intellect and how he understood him. And he did not want to lose him. He needed him. He just couldn't say if that was necessarily a good thing.

Was that what Remus called love? What did he feel? How would he describe it? Severus didn't know. And he really didn't want to know. Maybe one name was too trivial to describe everything he felt for Remus. Perhaps his feelings could not be described with one single word. They were all words and no word. And he wouldn't put a corset on them by using a word like "love" just for the sake of it.

Nevertheless it felt amazing to know that Remus indeed loved him. He meant it when he said he loved Severus, those weren't just empty words, Severus was sure of that. And it was a singular pleasure to know that Remus loved him. That he loved him because he was himself, not because of some lie. That he hadn't recoiled even though he knew more about him than most people, more about his terrible crimes than the rest of the world except for Albus. It incited an unfamiliar happiness in Severus every time he thought about it. And happiness was a feeling that he would almost have forgotten had the werewolf not reminded him of its existence.

Still, he couldn't tell him any of this. Didn't trust him enough to do so. His tongue would be tied if he tried. He was hopeless at relationships because he couldn't expose himself to others, couldn't tell them things that they could use against him. His rational mind told him that Remus Lupin would not do any such thing, but deep down, because of all that had happened to him in the past, he just couldn't trust him. It would cost him a lot more work still to change that fact, since he did not want to leave it all to the werewolf, lest he would give up at some point, too exhausted to go on. But Severus agreed with Remus on at least one point: the effort would be worth it. Hopefully.

Lying on his back, staring at the canopy over his bed, trying to see through the many layers of stone between him and Remus, Severus touched his fingers to his lips, wondering how long this state of blissful togetherness would last. Hopefully forever, he thought, when sleep finally got the better of him, sweeping his consciousness away into some distant sphere where "forever" was only the blink of an eye.


	18. Lesson Eighteen: Louder Than Words

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: This is one of my favourite chapters :). And I'm gonna give you another one for Boxing Day!

* * *

 **Lesson Eighteen: Louder Than Words**

The next full moon arrived in no time at all. The brewing of the Wolfsbane had become a monthly routine, a welcome one no less, and so had its delivery to Remus's office. He usually encountered something interesting there, be it some new Dark creature or some new side of the werewolf himself. Today, even when he turned the corner to enter the corridor where Remus's office was located, his ears picked up a slightly wavering tune, some muffled music whose origin undoubtedly lay in Remus's office. It resembled something that Severus had heard Remus hum, more than once, always slightly off-key, like one would hum a song because both music and lyrics only fully came to one when they were actually playing, but then so clearly that one could sing along fairly accurately, but as soon as they left one's ear again they grew faint and intangible, as though some kind of veil or fog had descended upon them.

Slowing his step, Severus approached the door, which was slightly ajar, and looked in, glimpsing a slither of what looked like a brass flower on a wooden chest. It was a shiny gramophone, scratching an old song off a shellac record. And Remus's voice, just as scratchy, much less muffled, sang along to the woman's voice a song about finding the right one, the one true love …

" _Once in a Blue Moon_."

And Severus caught himself wondering if Remus was thinking of him when he sang that song quite hoarsely, if he considered Severus his "right one". Severus felt slightly silly when he thought that Remus's voice sounded nice enough when singing, quite rich. Leaning to the left to get a view of Remus, he managed to catch a glimpse of his unshaven jaw and disheveled hair and his hands holding a tea cup. He was looking out of the window and his face was turned away. Severus tried to make out Remus's reflection in the window pane he was facing, he wanted to know what expression Remus was wearing right now.

" _And with a thrill, you'll know that love is true, once in a lifetime when the moon is blue_ …"

And hadn't Severus heard Remus say something about once in a Blue Moon that day after the first full moon? That day when Remus had found out that Severus was a Death Eater. Remus sounded slightly wistful when he sang those lines, or was that Severus's imagination? Was it a past love he was thinking of or indeed Severus? He had said several times that he loved Severus. And if he believed in the once in a lifetime bit, then wasn't it probable that it was Severus he had in mind? The question was at the tip of Severus's tongue, but he didn't dare ask it. Instead he pushed open the door and knocked, causing Remus to whirl round, the song sadly dying from his lips as his surprise was chased away by a slightly flustered smile.

"Another waste of your hard-earned salary?" asked Severus mockingly, nodding at the gramophone that was still droning the last keys of the song.

Remus chuckled, lifting the needle off the record with an almost tender touch to stop the music. "Not at all," he said softly as Severus approached him slowly. "Much rather it is the best investment I have made in years. My old gramophone has been beyond repair for a while, ever since a very unfortunate full moon incident … now I can finally listen to my old records again and your Potion will make sure that I don't destroy this new gramophone as well."

Severus handed him the smoking goblet of Wolfsbane and was more than pleased to be hugged in return, quite tightly at that. Severus let his lips brush Remus's temple as they broke apart and ran his fingers over Remus's unshaven chin. He would like to be the one Remus had been singing about but at the same time it intimidated him. This kind of devotion, a love that would last a lifetime, was a dimension that Severus couldn't quite deal with. Didn't Remus deserve to receive the same devotion from the man he loved? But Severus could not give it. He did not feel it. And he averted his eyes at the thought because he did not want to let Remus see this. Remus kissed him briefly on the lips before he sat down on the desk to drink his Potion and Severus tried to diffuse the tension he thought was building between them. His imagination, surely.

"Who would ever have guessed that you have such a singing voice?" he said ironically and Remus laughed into the goblet. "So, why did you not choose a career as a singer?"

"I doubt that anyone would want to hear it," replied Remus, grinning. "If I had had a band I would have called them The Wailing Werewolves … or something like that. But truth be told I was quite embarrassed before I noticed it was you at the door. I don't usually sing for an audience." Remus smiled warmly at Severus as he took another sip of the Potion.

"So that means that you are not embarrassed if it is me?" asked Severus and felt a surge of warmth. He was special to Remus. He was the only one he was so close to.

"Of course not, why would I be?" asked Remus, reaching for Severus's hand and squeezing it before releasing it again. "I can show everything to you." He smiled for a few more moments but then he averted his eyes just like Severus had, and rubbed his neck, concealing his face behind the goblet. Severus wondered why. He wondered what Remus thought he could not show to Severus, after all. But Remus recovered quickly and ran his hand over Severus's arm. "You are my 'dear delight one', after all." And he winked as Severus huffed in embarrassment. So Remus did think of him when he sang or hummed that song.

"Silly werewolf," muttered Severus as Remus drained the Potion and hugged him yet again, even more tightly. And this time Severus noticed a trembling in Remus's body, something like nervousness, restlessness. Severus ran a hand over his back, hoping to be soothing, and waited patiently until Remus released him.

"Sorry," said Remus softly, wiping his eyes as though he had shed silent tears but Severus thought that Remus did not want him to know so he did not remark on it. It took Remus only a few seconds to pull himself together and he smiled again, running his fingers over Severus's jaw. "Would you like to stay for a while?" he asked then, giving Severus a nonchalant wink, shaking his hair out of his eyes. "I can see the desperate desire to kiss me in your dark eyes."

Severus snorted and cursed his body for making him blush. When he wanted to make a witty retort he found that all words had left him, had fled from the embarrassment. He was silent for a few moments, fully aware that Remus was watching him with those mischievous eyes and that twitching smile, insolently pleased with having rendered Severus speechless. Then Severus's words came back to him, their heads bowed in apologetic shame. The little traitors. "I pride myself in giving no emotion away," he said lowly, and was annoyed when Remus laughed in earnest.

"You have a fairly neutral expression, I grant you that, but your eyes speak very loudly," he said, taking a step towards Severus, "I know exactly what you are thinking."

"I wasn't thinking about kissing you," muttered Severus, annoyed.

"But I was," whispered Remus, lowering his eyes to Severus's lips, "and I wanted you to think about it, too. You are now, aren't you?"

And when Severus nodded reluctantly, Remus kissed him firmly on the mouth, running his hands over Severus's chest. "So what do you imagine we do?" asked Severus when Remus broke the kiss. "Kiss all afternoon?"

"Why not?" asked Remus in turn. "Any objections? I was thinking about you holding me, too. That would make me feel better."

"You aren't feeling well." It wasn't a question. Severus didn't need to ask. Remus shook his head.

"So, would you fancy sitting on the sofa with me for the rest of the day?" asked the werewolf tentatively, and he gave Severus another sample of his lips. "If you can neglect your work that is."

"If that is what my patient needs," said Severus seriously and Remus chuckled again. Severus let himself be pulled into the sitting room and watched patiently as Remus made tea and slipped out of his shoes to get comfortable. When Remus sat down beside Severus, he swung his legs over Severus's lap and sighed in satisfaction. Severus could not find it in himself to complain about having to spend the day with a cup of hot tea in his hands and Remus in his arms. And he did notice that the trembling in Remus's body ceased the longer he stayed.

Over the following days, Remus behaved rather curiously when Severus brought the Wolfsbane: at first his embraces became tighter and lasted longer and Severus would not be allowed to leave again before Remus had had his fair share of body contact and reassuring words, but the last two days before the full moon were marked by a radical change in him that meant no touching at all and only a curt "thank you" and a "have a nice day". Though Severus had felt rather helpless and misplaced in the role of the one giving solace, he felt equally offended and unfairly treated when Remus so obviously avoided all contact. Especially because Remus had never behaved like that before, not even around the full moons he had already spent at Hogwarts. Then, with a guilty chill, it occurred to Severus that perhaps it was a tougher full moon, maybe due to the strain Remus was under and maybe even because Severus had reacted in such a shameful way the last time Remus's transformation had been impending. He didn't remark on Remus's behaviour. Not even when he watched the werewolf knock over three cups of tea in a row in the staffroom on the day of the full moon. He wouldn't have known what to say anyway.

After lunch, Severus carried the goblet with Potion to Remus's sitting room and because he already knew that Remus wasn't well he sat down beside him on the sofa, placing the goblet into Remus's shaking hands. He received a mumbled word of thanks and a fleeting glance from dull eyes before Remus forced himself to gulp down the reeking Potion with visible difficulty. Severus laid his hand into the back of Remus's neck in a gesture of support but Remus flinched, spilling some of the Potion on the front of his robes. Severus withdrew his hand at once and whipped out his wand to clean Remus's robes as the werewolf coughed. Severus didn't like the feeling of rejection that Remus's reaction incited in him. It was anger caused by embarrassment at having done something wrong. He wished that Remus would never reject him again. Because the anger made Severus quite unpleasant company. Even though he knew it was his own fault, because he had not read Remus correctly.

"Do you wish me to leave?" asked Severus in a clipped voice that he couldn't quite help. But to his surprise Remus shook his head, turning his watering eyes on Severus.

"If you want to stay, you can. Just –" he croaked and cleared his throat, "just don't touch me, please." Apparently Remus noticed that, far from placating Severus, he had affronted him with this remark. "I'm sorry, but there is no way you could understand … ah, you see, I appreciate your gesture but … I cannot bear it today."

Severus scowled at him. How could he say that Severus wouldn't understand if he didn't even try to explain it? "And why is that?" he asked impatiently.

Remus shook his head, draining the goblet before he answered. "Sensitive skin. The wolf strengthening in me. Not something you could comprehend. I don't pretend to be good at explaining it, either." Which didn't exactly improve Severus's mood. Sure enough, he was probably being too touchy but he thought that Remus wasn't being helpful at all.

"Well," he said crossly, picking up the goblet, "if that is all you have to say …" He tried to respect Remus's wish to stay away from him and he certainly didn't want to pressure him while he was obviously feeling unwell but it annoyed him nonetheless. He rose to leave then, angry at himself for being angry at Remus, for he didn't think that he was an adequate source of solace for Remus at the moment. But before he could move away, Remus caught his hand to hold him back.

"Severus," he said quietly, a smile tugging at his lips, though his forehead was creased, "don't be angry. I assure you that it has nothing to do with you. In fact, so close to the full moon, you are the only one I can bear in my vicinity. But I ask you to respect my wishes concerning this matter, not in spite but because of the fact that I love you."

His amber eyes looked placidly at Severus, who squeezed Remus's hand as he felt a flustered flush rise up the back of his neck. And then he suddenly saw a foreign glint in Remus's eyes. A split second later Remus withdrew his hand and averted his eyes. He could feel this glint, Severus was sure of it. And remembering what Remus had told him about how he felt close to the full moon, Severus felt uncomfortable because he had been ignorant that this was unpleasant to Remus. He wished to kiss the werewolf in apology, for he knew no other language than the one Remus had taught him to communicate such sentiments. But he knew that such a gesture was unwelcome. So, instead, he decided to leave Remus in peace for today.

"Have a good night, then, Remus," he said softly and when Remus gave a curt nod, he turned to leave again. It pleased him somewhat that he had only been allowed to stay at all because Remus loved him. Such a vulnerable feeling. Severus studied it from behind a strong invisible barrier, that would not let him get too close to it. And it was distant and intangible to him, like the stars.

And like the stars, Remus's eyes winked sparklingly at him, shining with that intangible feeling, when Severus woke him late next morning, bending over him, applying a low voice and a gentle hand, that he hoped were soothing. Unlike yesterday, Remus seemed to relish Severus's touches, encouraging him to caress his cheek. It had taken some time to wake the werewolf, who had been rolled up under his blanket and not reacted to Severus's attempts to wake him until he had gently shaken his shoulder.

"Severus," Remus said rather cheerfully, cupping Severus's hand on his cheek with his own. "Good morning."

"Apparently," Severus replied, surprised that Remus seemed to be in better shape than expected. His eyes swept over him to check for injuries and glimpsed an exposed neck and shoulder, the silky skin tempting him to press his lips to it. He shook his head. Surely Remus would not want that. Not right now when he was still weak, if at all. Severus produced the Invigorating Draught he had brought for Remus and gave it a shake in front of Remus's face to offer it to him.

Remus smiled and the crinkles round his eyes deepened as the expression Severus associated with the phrase "I love you" intensified on his face. Remus tried to sit up but failed, his arms giving way under his weight. He chuckled lightly, though Severus could see the pain clearly written on his face. Severus hesitated for a moment, then he sat down on the bed beside the werewolf, laying his arm round his shoulders to help him sit up and steady him. It was a most intimate situation, at least to him. The warmth of Remus's body, the scent of his hair, his vulnerability … Severus felt tempted to take advantage and kiss Remus's neck, after all, but he restrained himself as he watched Remus drink the potion with a warm word of thanks.

Severus felt the strength returning to the werewolf's body but Remus stayed in his arms nonetheless, resting his head on Severus's chest with closed eyes, his breathing deep and calm. Severus's heart suddenly started pounding very fast when he noticed that Remus was actually trying to appear in need of support only to be allowed to stay close. Or maybe he was feeling weak and actually sought shelter. But either way, it was unexpected and exciting.

"Severus," said Remus hoarsely and Severus snapped out of his thoughts, "stop brooding and tell me if you feel comfortable like this." There was a smile in his voice. Severus relaxed, noticing that he had tensed at this close contact. There was only one answer of course, as Severus let his eyes wander over Remus's exposed neck once more. He was not exactly what he would call comfortable with this physical intensity. But he was pleased. And his hammering heart told him that he was another thing. He swallowed and tried to scold himself for having such inappropriate feelings when Remus was ill.

"Comfortable," he repeated slowly, "yes."

"Good," said Remus and shifted a little to make himself more comfortable, wincing in pain, a pain that must be ailing him with every movement, "then I'll stay like this."

Without replying to what was clearly not a question, Severus leant back against the headboard. The nature of the situation struck him with sudden force: Remus actually wanted him – Severus Snape of all people – to stay in his bed, so close to him, when he was at his most vulnerable and defenceless, barely able to sit up. The level of Remus's trust in him was … touching. And when he looked down at Remus's white skin again, marred by a scar that ran from his jugular down low over his throat, he thought that, surely, kissing this place would not be considered more intimate than holding Remus like this, surely Remus would allow it. He had turned his head so that Severus just needed to bend his own and press his lips to the spot where neck joined shoulder – and before he had thought twice, he had done so, his mouth almost cold against Remus's warm neck as he placed a kiss, then dragged his lips gently upwards over the werewolf's pulsing heartbeat to enjoy the feeling of it.

Remus let out a surprised gasp and stirred in Severus's arms. At once Severus pulled back, fearing the same reaction as yesterday. He was feeling quite warm. He didn't know if it was the embarrassment, the dread of rejection, or the sensation of having kissed Remus so intimately. And then he felt Remus's hand on his, which was resting on Remus's arm. Severus could see a smile crinkling the skin round Remus's eyes. A twitching smile. Severus let his hand be pulled round Remus's waist, under the blanket.

"You needn't stop," said Remus mildly, "it was nice. Always nice to know that you want to touch me."

"But yesterday –" Severus began defiantly.

"Yesterday was the day of the full moon," Remus interrupted just as mildly, patiently, "today is the day after the full moon. No restrictions for that day. The more touching the better." This time Severus did not feel vexed by this thing he did not understand. Remus's tone was different today. And Severus just accepted it as it was and pressed his cheek to Remus's temple rather tentatively. "That is not to say that I generally like to be touched," Remus added, as though on an afterthought. "I only let you touch me. But you I want to touch as much as possible."

Severus felt oddly flattered, felt some kind of self-satisfied possessiveness. This was only for him. He felt a little more confident when he kissed Remus's neck again and buried his face in the curve of it, overwhelmed by Remus's warmth. And then, quite suddenly, it was too much. He raised his head, took a deep breath and tried to shake off that feeling that made his heart beat so fast. When he did not succeed, he tried to diffuse the prickling tension of intimacy that hung over them both.

"Ravenclaw has won today's match," he said, hoping that Remus would catch on. He did.

"Though I don't mean to rub it in – that means Gryffindor still has a chance to win the cup, doesn't it?" he asked, turning his head to brush his lips against Severus's cheek. "Slytherin missed their chance?"

Severus huffed irritably, but he was satisfied that his heartbeat was slowing and that Remus's eyes were open and sober, rather than closed and dreaming. "You _are_ rubbing it in," he grumbled but he could not find it in himself to blame Remus. He was a Gryffindor after all, and unduly fond of Potter.

Remus laughed, and then he coughed, doubling over, obviously in pain. Severus sat up, laying an arm awkwardly round Remus's shaking shoulders. When Remus's breathing calmed again, he sank back against Severus as though he had used up all the strength Severus's potion had restored, and he sighed shakily as he rested his head against Severus's neck, his lips touching Severus's skin, his rattling breath sending shivers down Severus's spine. And they were back in the too intimate situation Severus had tried to break up.

"Thank you for being here," croaked Remus weakly, pressing up to Severus affectionately. Severus tensed again, fighting the urge to slip away. It was truly too much. He could not quite handle this. He had never been so close to anyone. It was definitely too much.

But he knew that moving away would be a mistake, so he tried to think clearly and ran his hand down Remus's arm in a caress to compensate for his inability to reply. His fingers left the fabric of Remus's shirt and touched his skin, running over the ridges of old scars, whitened and withered, crisscrossing on Remus's arm without disturbing the softness of the skin. The sensation incited a tingling in Severus's fingers. His own skin was calloused, rough, discoloured, due to his frequent use of knives and his handling of ingredients and potions. Well, compared to nonchalantly handsome Remus, Severus was rather less agreeable in appearance altogether. It was so unlikely that Remus even wanted him. It was a singular sensation, touching the scarred skin, which, Severus knew, was never exposed to anyone else, always carefully hidden under long robes and a high collar.

As Remus's breathing eased, Severus thought that the more he indulged in this _relationship_ the harder it appeared to be to extricate himself from it, to stop it, end it, and though he did not desire to do so at the moment, he did not like to lose the possibility to do so when he found it necessary. Having no way out of such an intimate, vulnerable situation was dangerous. Remus had all he needed to destroy Severus with one blow. Severus was pleased that Remus knew him so well. That was why he was so special to him. Why this even worked between them, sometimes wordlessly. It was Remus's ability to see through him and discover even that which Severus tried to hide from the world. However, at the same time, this greatest advantage was also the greatest danger their connection posed.

Being so rational made him quite sober and he decided that it was time to leave. He did have classes to teach, after all. "I still have work to attend to," he said and sat up, causing Remus to follow suit, breaking their body contact. "I will leave you now. You should rest."

Remus looked rather regretful, almost reproachful. But whatever romantic situation he had been imagining was taking place, Remus could not possibly have deluded himself into thinking that Severus would suddenly turn into a hopeless romantic who would hold his hand all day and forget all else. It probably didn't help that their feelings and expectations differed so much. And Severus realised that he must have given Remus a different impression of his intentions today. He had to admit that his intentions had been different just a few minutes ago, kissing Remus's neck. But he could not let himself get carried away.

"Was hoping you could stay a while longer," said Remus calmly. Severus knew that it was not meant as a reproach, but it felt like one. Severus didn't like the disarming effect Remus had on him. He wanted to be self-confident instead of self-conscious. But he wasn't. Severus couldn't control himself very well in Remus's presence. Most of all when Remus was pressing up against him in an almost undressed state. And the fact that the werewolf was aware of it, aware of the power he had over him, made him angry.

"I still have more important things to do than holding your hand!" he snapped and got to his feet. He felt the golden eyes on his back like he would have felt the Dark Lord's wand directed at him. He sighed. He couldn't show the werewolf that he cared. Which he did. Absolutely. He didn't know how. Didn't know the words. Couldn't learn it from Remus. He was a completely hopeless case, only capable of defensive nastiness but never of the obvious care the werewolf showed him. He was so used to hiding his every emotion, especially the vulnerable ones, the dangerous ones, so used to the negative feelings he had cultivated over the past decade, that he had lost the capability to show that he cared.

When he turned back to face Remus, he found the werewolf frowning, clearly trying to figure out what he had done to deserve this treatment. Severus felt unworthy. Unworthy of Remus's love. Though this insecurity was far from pleasant, he wanted their relationship to work. But he was always only an infinitesimally small step away from shattering it, angry and torn between keeping his soul safe and placing it into Remus's gentle hands, risking to be disappointed, hurt, left, destroyed, in order to keep Remus, all of him, so voluntarily offered. He knew that the werewolf would never be satisfied, giving so much and receiving so little, and maybe, eventually, he would turn away from him. Severus heaved another sigh.

"You need to rest," he muttered, milder this time. "I am not fit to stay with you when you are supposed to rest."

"Why ever not?" chuckled Remus, leaning back against the headboard. "I rest best when I feel safe. Not that I had much of that in the last years … But I trust you."

They were words that Severus would never have been able to utter, would have been embarrassed to say, and Remus said them with such a seriousness and firmness in his voice that it made Severus feel warm. Apparently his perplexity was showing on his face, since Remus chuckled again, quite softly, and took his hand.

"Why so surprised?" he asked mildly. "Do you think I would have told you so candidly about my feelings if I didn't trust you?"

It was quite true, but also quite irrational. And it made Severus draw up a chair and sit with Remus for a while longer, holding his hand, after all. And he felt that not only Remus's body was healing as they spent this time together, but also Severus's soul. Being trusted by someone other than Dumbledore … being loved … it was working its magic.

On the next day he returned, sitting down on the same chair to watch Remus sleeping. He did not wake him. He enjoyed the intimacy of being in Remus's presence like this. And when Remus's eyes fluttered open half an hour after Severus's arrival, the werewolf wasn't surprised, but smiled sleepily and reached for Severus, who grasped his hand at once and bent down to kiss Remus's lips, feeling the stubble, that gleamed golden in the sunlight, scratching lightly over his skin. He was reassured by the gentle fingers that came to rest in the back of his neck and brushed Remus's disheveled hair out of his forehead when he pulled back.

"You're here," said Remus, smiling as he squeezed Severus's hand. "I'm feeling better already."

Severus did not reply. He would not have had any appropriate words to reply to something like that. "Do you still have some of that tea left that I gave you?" he asked instead, thinking of Potter in contempt and of Albus in indignation. "Or did your multiple guests drink it all?"

"That tea belongs to you and me, Severus," said Remus, wincing as he sat up. "I don't share it with anyone else."

Severus tried to cover up just how satisfied he was by that unduly romantic answer. "Then I'll make some," he said curtly and got to his feet, catching a glimpse of Remus's knowing smile and wondering how he had given himself away this time.

Severus liked to believe that it was his care and help that caused Remus's quick recovery and whenever he remarked on it, Remus obediently confirmed it. Soon Remus was working again and liberally requesting Severus's assistance – more to be together with Severus than because he really needed him, or so Severus believed – so they spent hours and hours in Remus's rooms, with a glass of wine or a cup of tea, talking more than they worked, touching less than Severus would have liked, but he wouldn't say. An occasional hand to an arm, head to a shoulder, forehead to a temple, were not nearly enough for Severus anymore. He touched his knee to Remus's when they sat together and he encouraged Remus when he pressed up to him and sometimes they would linger in an intimate touch for a while before returning to their work. It felt very natural and as if they had been doing this for decades.

Usually, when Remus had finished his grading, he would shuffle close to Severus to watch him count the points on the essays instead of helping him with it. He seemed to take special pleasure in Severus's grumpy grimaces when he had yet another ten-point homework from the know-it-all Hermione Granger in his hands or read another praising comment on Potter's practical skill at the bottom of his eight-point written work. It was not the work, though, which interested Severus most, it was Remus's _presence_. It was his rich but hoarse voice, his arms round Severus's shoulders, his warm lips moving against Severus's ear when he whispered to him, and against his jaw when he kissed it. And he always noticed when he had intruded for too long a time into Severus's personal space, withdrawing without the need to be told.

Today they were in the dungeons and Severus paid close attention to Remus's mood, since he feared that the cold, dark surroundings could depress him, despite his claim that he liked Severus's rooms. But Remus seemed to be quite at ease. As he leant against Severus's shoulder, letting his head roll against Severus's, he looked around the room. "Don't you have anyone whose picture you'd like to put on the wall?" he asked after a while, looking back at Severus with raised eyebrows. Severus wondered if he was thinking of himself and found the idea so absurd that he snorted.

It was true of course, there were no pictures there, mostly because he knew that displaying one's weaknesses as obviously as that was foolhardy in the extreme. Put up photos of loved ones and you might as well present them to the enemy on a silver platter. Also, if Severus thought about who was close enough to him to justify putting up a picture, he came up with people who would thoroughly blow his cover if Lucius Malfoy happened upon them, hanging on Severus's walls, here in the dungeons or at Spinner's End. Photos, such a very Gryffindor thing to remark on. Remus had better remark on the awards for achievements in potion-making that Severus had received from the Extraordinary Society of Master Potioneers among others. Those were displayed quite openly in the glass-cabinets in Severus's rooms, polished and very visible.

"Nor have you, as it seems," Severus said silkily, "if I remember correctly, that is."

Remus smiled sadly at him. "Actually I do, but …" he said slowly, hesitating as he rested his head against Severus's. "I keep them all in a box under my bed. If I wanted to I could look at them, they are there."

"But you don't," said Severus and it wasn't a question. He wondered if he might join the people in the box one day. He wondered if that would please him.

"Too painful," said Remus and Severus heard that he was trying not to sound grave, but he did.

"Yes, I hear what you are saying," said Severus with mock seriousness to help Remus lighten up the conversation, "having one of them in front of my nose all the time, I can imagine the pain caused by looking at a bunch of blasted Potters day in day out."

Though Severus didn't think it was the wittiest thing he could have said, Remus laughed very hard at his remark. There is only a very fine line between laughing oneself to tears and actually crying. And quite suddenly, Remus had crossed it. Remus buried his face in his hands almost too fast for Severus to properly realise that there were tears running down his pale face and that those were stifled sobs, not bursts of laughter. Remus's body shook with them and Severus stared at him in startled shock. He had never seen Remus lose control like this. It was almost unnatural. It would have been indecent to watch, had Severus not been more than a friend to Remus.

It incited a deep ache in Severus to see Remus like this. It was like seeing the world end, a helpless bystander, being pulled into the chasm. But while Severus was still wondering what he was supposed to do now, how to properly give solace, trying to take Albus as a role model, Remus appeared to regain the control he had so unexpectedly lost, probably also to himself. His shoulders stilled and the sobbing subsided, though he remained sitting with his face in his hands for a while longer, possibly concentrating hard on getting a grip. And suddenly Severus knew that if he didn't touch Remus to show him that he was there for him, it would be a mistake that he would soon regret. This was, after all, part of what he was to Remus, this was why it wasn't indecent to see Remus like this. Because he was the only one who could be there for him in moments such as this. He just knew this. He knew not why.

So he raised a hand and laid it firmly into the back of Remus's neck, and Remus drew a deep breath, as if out of relief, exhaling audibly, and only a moment later he raised his head a little, letting his hands slide off his eyes to rest over his nose instead. Severus did not speak. He knew no words for such a situation. He did not even know why Remus was so upset. He only saw Remus's eyes staring glassily ahead, as though seeing something that was invisible to Severus, and he knew that Remus would speak if he wanted to let Severus know what was on his mind. Severus had seldom heard Remus's voice moved by emotion, yet he was surprised how clear it was as Remus chose to speak, how controlled he sounded. And he felt immediately closer to Remus, who knew the art and the curse of keeping himself under control at all times just as well as Severus knew them.

"Some friends they were, you might say," said Remus and Severus thought he detected some bitterness in his voice, "not trusting me enough to tell me that they'd go into hiding. I last saw them a week before they did. When I returned from Order business they had gone, and the next time I saw them, their bodies were being retrieved from their ruined house. Of course there were letters, but … I just know that they believed that I was the spy. The whole Order believed it, Albus believed it, but I had expected more from my oldest friends, the people who knew me best, who had sworn to stand by me no matter what, who had helped me get by after school. In the end … I was just the treacherous werewolf to them, like to the rest of the world. It taught me. It changed me. More than I'd like to admit. I never let anyone get that close to me again. For in the end, the only thing that I can rely on in the people surrounding me is that they'll disappoint me. In the end, I am always _the werewolf_. No matter how often I prove that I am more than that, that I am better than that … it makes no difference. I am the werewolf and that is how I shall be treated."

Severus knew that this was at least partly the case. As soon as he had informed Albus of the existence of a spy in the rows of the Order of the Phoenix, in the Potters' immediate vicinity, suspicions against Remus had started building among the Order members. Though Severus knew that Albus's reasons had been Remus's intelligence, his skill, and his nerve, rather than his condition, he could not speak for the rest of the Order. It had seemed reasonable to the Order to shut Remus out of important decisions and exclude him from important meetings. Remus had been shunned by his friends and brothers in arms, also on the grounds of his condition, Severus agreed, and only the stark truth of Black's treachery had proven him loyal to those who didn't deserve such loyalty. Too late, of course. Far too late for everybody. Severus swallowed hard. Now that he knew Remus so intimately, he had a hard time comprehending why he had been suspected of betraying his only friends. And how Remus could still be so kind, so forgiving.

"I loved them," said Remus softly and his voice was void of emotion now. Severus knew that he had banned it from his body to be able to stand this. "I have not truly loved since."

This made Severus glance at him, finding his eyes still unfocused, staring into nothingness. Then, very slowly, Remus blinked and turned his eyes on Severus, who noticed that his grip on Remus's neck had tightened. It was strange to see Remus like this. Finding no smile, no twitching in the corners of his mouth, was odd enough, but finding no emotion at all was simply striking, like an apparition, as though Remus was not Remus anymore. Perhaps Severus should have said something by now. Anything. For instance that Remus wasn't just "the werewolf" to him, that he would never see only a werewolf in him, would never base any assumption about him on his condition. That he would never treat him as though his affliction made him untrustworthy, wicked or depraved. But he thought that Remus should be aware of it without being told, and he perceived it as a deadly offence that Remus would include him in his earlier statements. Then something shifted in Remus's eyes, like dark clouds drifting over a blue sky.

"I love you," he said calmly and Severus's grip relaxed. Had that been it? Had he been indignant with Remus because he had believed that he did not truly love him? He was not ready to admit it. He held Remus's gaze. "I suppose when true love overcomes you, there is nothing you can do about it. And now there is nothing else for it but to hope that you will not disappoint me, that this is not as much of a lie as the friendships I held dear in the past. I did not mean to love you, and you did not want me. We were both afraid. But now that we are here, I am glad of it." He paused again and Severus still looked into his eyes, though he felt an unpleasant churning in his stomach. He did not deserve those words. He did not want them. He was afraid of them. There were still those dark clouds, drifting over Remus's golden eyes, and there was still Severus's hand in the back of his neck. He would not let go. They were connected and that was the least he could give to Remus in exchange for his words. "Or was I right to be afraid of loving you, Severus?"

He could not possibly make an answer that would be worthy of Remus's true love. It was like saying "maybe" at the altar, when the only proper answer was "yes", and Severus tried hard not to feel like the wrong groom. He would not release Remus. The werewolf was his. And yet he felt for the first time that he did not have what Remus deserved. He deserved a confession of undying love, and Severus knew that he would never give it. Remus did not say it often, but he did say it, and sometimes Severus thought that Remus held it back because the pain of receiving no answer was too great. And though he knew he shouldn't, Severus felt affirmed in his rejection of this vulnerable feeling.

"You can trust me never to treat you like a Dark creature," said Severus, feeling ashamed and indecent under Remus's gaze for not subscribing to this true love, for pitying Remus because he had fallen prey to it and could not escape. He had said so himself, nothing to be done about it. He could not consider it a gift, when it was so much like a curse. And he would not desecrate Remus's feelings for him by giving him the answer he deserved, for it would be untrue and patronising from Severus's lips. "You can trust me not to lie to you. And not to turn my back on you. I hope that is enough to reassure you."

Remus's lips curved into a vague smile that finally made him look less like a stranger. "I never cared much about your words," he said and Severus, though slightly put off, thought that that was fair enough. "Your actions show me how much you really care, Severus. Few people talk with their actions as sincerely as you do, and lie as brazenly with their words. As such, I do feel reassured that my love is not ill-placed this time."

And though Severus disagreed, also owing to the fact that he had no idea what actions Remus might be referring to, he decided to let him believe whatever consoled him and tightened his grip on Remus's neck to pull him gently toward himself and make their lips meet in a kiss that tasted of dried tears and unspoken words.


	19. Lesson Nineteen: Where The Heart Is

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: I hope everybody enjoyed Christmas. Where I'm from, it's still going on, so here comes a Christmas chapter. No new chapter on Christmas Eve.

* * *

 **Lesson Nineteen: Where The Heart Is**

Severus's least favourite time of year had arrived: Christmas. It was the last week of term and the whole castle was prepared for the "feast of love". Mistletoe was hanging from every doorframe, in every corridor there were twinkling decorations, in every room there was a Christmas tree. And wherever one looked there were cheerful people, looking forward to celebrating with their families, to presents and dinners, and everybody was filled fit to burst with Christmas spirit. The staff had long understood that Severus could not be convinced to join in their merry anticipation. To him, a feast that was spent with one's family only unearthed unpleasant memories and associations. He had no family left and they had never been precious to him anyway. Christmas meant lonely evenings in a cold house void of love, or in an empty dormitory void of friends. Christmas was for happy, fortunate, loved men, not for him. He only had Christmas breakfast with Albus because they were close, because it did not feel like pretence when they sat together in front of a crackling fire. It did not have much to do with Christmas, it merely gave them an excuse to take some time for each other. But else Severus liked to take refuge in his rooms where there was no reminder of the season, rather than expose himself to his colleagues in the staffroom. This year, though, he felt drawn to a different refuge altogether.

Remus's office was by no means free of Christmas decorations, but they were less obtrusive and over the top than in the rest of the castle. Indeed, there was only a very small tree with winking magical lights in the corner where the magical creatures usually resided, some sugar canes in a bowl, and the old gramophone scratching Muggle Christmas songs so softly that Severus could easily ignore them. The most festive thing was Remus's hot chocolate with whipped cream, star-shaped chocolate sprinkles, and tiny marshmallows, a beverage he had not even bothered offering to Severus, for he knew better. It didn't seem to be Remus's favourite time of year, either.

"Two men with no family," the werewolf said with a wry smile when they sat together in his office. "No wonder that we don't feel very enthusiastic about a feast that means returning home and celebrating said family. Not that I don't like the merriness in the castle and the beautiful decorations. But if it wasn't for you I would find it hard to bear. It's been a long time since I was able to be with a loved one at Christmas."

Severus looked into his amber eyes and felt warm. He might not be happy or fortunate, but today, he thought, he was loved. And that made the decorations in Remus's office much more bearable. He didn't even complain when Remus hummed along to the songs his gramophone was playing. "Let us relocate to the sitting room," said Severus smoothly, finding it annoying that the desk was separating them. "I wouldn't like to be walked in upon, indulging in Christmas spirit with you."

Remus chuckled as Severus got up and walked to the secret door to open it and turn around again to wait for Remus in the doorway. "No reason why you shouldn't just say straight out that you want to get closer to me," said Remus as he followed Severus to the door with a mischievous light in his eyes that made Severus narrow his eyes at him in suspicious caution, "when I know exactly that that is what you mean."

"Believe what you will," said Severus silkily, stepping back and bumping into the doorframe as Remus came very close. "Delusional werewolf."

"Making you incautious, am I?" asked Remus, his lips twitching. "How flattering that you would be so distracted by me to forget to look where you are standing at this time of year." And he looked up over Severus's head.

Severus followed his gaze, realising at once what Remus meant and finding proof over his head: a mistletoe hanging from the doorframe. Before he could pull back, Remus had closed the gap between them and kissed him. Feeling Remus's gentle hands on his face, and tasting the hot chocolate in Remus's mouth, and smelling the distinct scent of cinnamon about Remus, Severus thought that some Christmas traditions might not be so disagreeable after all. Though he would never have admitted it out loud. Severus licked his lips as they broke apart and his eyes remained closed as he stored the experience away to be able to access it in fullest detail whenever he wanted. Christmas with Remus. Rather more agreeable than he had expected. Who would have believed that anyone would be willing to stand under a mistletoe with Severus Snape and that they would live to tell the tale? As a reward for their kiss, the mistletoe started producing magical snow that sailed lightly onto their heads as they stood there. The flakes caught in Remus's greying hair and melted on his mellow skin as Severus traced his jaw with his fingers, drinking in Remus's smiling face and his loving eyes. It was the feast of love to Remus, Severus realised. Why not grant him this pleasure, in exchange for all the pleasures he granted Severus?

"Don't you dare tell anyone about this mistletoe business," said Severus warningly as he flicked the snowflakes out of Remus's hair.

"My lips are sealed," assured Remus, and indeed, they were a moment later, as Severus earned himself more snowflakes from the mistletoe.

As they sat together on the sofa, Remus asked permission to give Severus a Christmas present. He assured Severus that he did not expect one in return but that he had something in mind that he would like to give him. Severus could not remember when he had last received a present – except for Albus's obligatory pair of socks, of course – and he agreed because he was curious, though he pretended to be reluctant. Severus was still wondering what Remus might get him when he sat in the staffroom the next day, preparing for class. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he did not even notice that Remus sat down opposite him until the werewolf's leg touch his and made him jump.

"What do you think you are doing?" he hissed, looking up at Remus, but when he found an annoyed expression on Remus's face he forgot his indignation. "What is the matter?"

"I was forced to escape from my own office because Professor Trelawney paid me a visit," muttered Remus so quietly that only Severus could hear him.

Severus raised a surprised eyebrow. "She usually never leaves her abode," he said, watching Remus pinch the bridge of his nose. "What did she want?"

"She wanted to 'crystal gaze' for me," replied Remus, "and maybe more than that … I think she, ah, might have a thing for me." He tried to smile but Severus could see that he wasn't really amused.

"What did she tell you, then?" asked Severus, trying to ignore the burning and completely unfounded feeling of possessive jealousy in his chest. "Did she see a wolf in your tealeaves?"

Remus's face darkened. "I didn't let her tell me anything," he said quietly, "I told her that I had no time and forced her out of my office before she could say more than 'your time is short'. I don't want any predictions or prophecies. Nothing good can come of that. Just look at Harry's Grim."

Severus raised an eyebrow at him. "What about it?"

Remus glanced at him, then averted his eyes. Very suspicious. "Well, Harry was very anxious because of that silly omen of death," he said but Severus didn't think that that was what he had been referring to. "He even fell off his broom. As if anyone needed more unnecessary worries about something they are very well aware of."

"Like impending death?" asked Severus smoothly.

"Or impending unemployment," replied Remus with a small grin. "As if it was a secret that my time is short. I'd rather live my life without such silly predictions at the back of my mind."

"And right you are, Remus," said a voice behind Severus, and as he turned round he found McGonagall looking down at them both. Severus knew what she wanted and he rolled his eyes, turning away again.

"Don't even try, Minerva," he said silkily, "you know that my answer is no."

Remus gave him a curious look. "No to what?" he asked, looking between Severus and McGonagall.

"As every year, the staff members that remain at Hogwarts have a drink in the Three Broomsticks on the last Saturday of term," said McGonagall at length and Severus could feel her glaring daggers at his back. "And even though Severus refuses to take part in this social tradition every year, he cannot prevent me from asking him to come, even if it is only to annoy him."

"Waste of breath," remarked Severus, staring pointedly out of the window. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Remus's twitching smile.

"Thank Merlin," said McGonagall in mock relief, "I had already feared that we would have to put up with you this time. How about you, then, Remus? It's only Hagrid, Filius, and me this year, but you would make our round so much merrier. You are staying at Hogwarts, I presume?"

Severus glanced at Remus and met his eyes, which seemed to be searching him for some sort of sign. A Saturday in Hogsmeade meant a Saturday without Severus. That reasoning was so visible in Remus's eyes that Severus knew the werewolf must have seen it in his, too. And as Remus turned to McGonagall with a smile, Severus knew what he was going to say.

"I'm afraid I must decline, Minerva," he said and it sounded so charmingly regretful that Severus wasn't surprised that the werewolf had been able to get away with almost anything at school. Such a shameless liar. "As you might know, I will be ill at Christmas and I'm already a little behind on my work again. I'm going to use the weekend to catch up."

Severus couldn't help but look round at McGonagall to admire the effect of Remus's blunt lie. Her face showed her disappointment very clearly, but also another feeling, something like affectionate approval. "I see, well," she said, "I cannot possibly discourage you from trying to meet your deadlines, of course … though I do think you should take a break once in a while. Maybe some other time, then. Don't overwork yourself, will you …"

"Of course not," smiled Remus, winking at Severus, who was smirking at him. "I hope that you'll be merry enough without me."

After McGonagall had left them to themselves again, Remus produced a chocolate bar, broke it into pieces, and put it on the table between them. When he looked up he raised his eyebrows. Severus was giving him a look of mock scolding. "Is anything the matter, Severus?" he asked lightly and Severus knew that Remus knew very well what had earned him that look.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for Slytherin behaviour, Professor Lupin," Severus replied silkily. "Now I know how you wound your way out of trouble at school."

Remus was unmoved by this and only gave him a nonchalantly mischievous smile. "Would you rather I had told her that all my Saturdays are reserved for quality time with you?" he asked teasingly, taking a chunk of chocolate to pop it into his mouth.

Severus glared at him. Cheeky werewolf. "And what makes you believe that I don't have anything better to do on said Saturday?" he said smoothly, making Remus chuckle.

"But, Severus," he replied mildly, and his lips were twitching with poorly hidden mirth, "there is nothing better than spending quality time with me."

Fair enough. Though Severus noticed the unveiled self-sufficiency in Remus's voice, he decided not to remark on it. Remus was once again possessed by mature mischief and Severus had already fallen prey to it. So he settled for taking a chunk of chocolate himself and giving Remus a noncommittal shrug. He could, after all, not think of anything he would rather do on a Saturday, or indeed any day, than to spend "quality time" with Remus.

On Saturday, when the castle was deserted but for the first and second-years, Remus invited himself to Severus's rooms and had Severus serve him Darjeeling tea. He was sitting on the sofa, stretching out his long legs, as he accepted a steaming cup from Severus. Making himself at home before the warm fireplace, he looked out of the snowy window with glassy eyes and Severus wondered if he remembered a snowball fight with his friends right there beside the frozen lake. Severus remembered a few very hard snowballs to the back of his head and neck when he thought about Remus's friends and snow.

Severus sipped his own tea with a slight scowl and knew at once that Remus would want a lump of sugar in it, so he summoned a sugar bowl and ladled some into Remus's cup, which remained untouched in Remus's lap. The werewolf glanced down, and smiled absently at Severus, thanking him for his consideration. But Severus just knew Remus too well not to have done it. And he realised how pleasant it felt to know somebody so well. When he looked at Remus, he found him staring out of the window again. Maybe he regretted not having gone with the others to have a drink? But it had been his decision.

"Why didn't you join the others in Hogsmeade?" asked Severus, trying to sound casual. He didn't want Remus to regret not having gone. He wanted Remus to think that there was nothing better than spending quality time with Severus.

Remus raised his eyebrows and turned his head to gaze at Severus, looking as though he had not quite registered yet what he had been asked. After a moment or two, realisation dawned on his face and he took Severus's hand, holding it firmly. "Wanted to make sure that I use all the time I have left with you," he said with a vague smile.

"I am sure that I don't know what you mean," said Severus, confused.

"That true?" asked Remus, giving him a look as his smile faltered a little. "I would have thought that you'd have mentioned it by now. Seeing as we are much more than mere colleagues now. But no matter if we talk about it or not … doesn't change anything about my time being short."

Severus raised an eyebrow at him. "You don't really believe what Trelawney told you, do you?" he asked incredulously but Remus shook his head with a small chuckle.

"Of course not," he said softly, looking into his teacup. "Anybody could have made that prediction. Everybody knows that I will have to vacate this position by the end of the school year. And until then, I want to use my time well. With you."

Severus looked at him in silence for a few long moments. He had not thought about this matter for months. Ever since he had started to enjoy Remus's company he had stopped thinking about the inevitable loss of it at the end of the school year. But it was true. It was predestined. The only question that was left was _how_ Remus would leave. And Severus, too, wanted to use the time they had, but preferably not by talking about how much time they had left. "Why did you think I would talk to you about it?"

"When Albus offered me this position, he warned me of Lord Voldemort's curse that would not allow me to stay longer than one year," said Remus quietly. "I'm sure he also told you about that Voldemort cursed the DADA position. Accordingly, I believed that you would address it one day."

Severus thought that Remus seemed a little hurt that Severus had, in fact, not addressed it. But Severus had pushed the knowledge aside, so he would not need to think about it. "Talking about it would not change anything, you said so yourself," muttered Severus, very aware of his cold hand in Remus's warm one. "Why waste precious time talking about the inevitable. There are better things to talk about."

"Of course," agreed Remus, taking a first sip of his tea, "but I thought you might say that you regret it."

Ah, that was it. Remus thought that Severus was indifferent. But that wasn't the case. Not at all. Remus should know that Severus just didn't say so. "But only because you will leave Hogwarts that doesn't mean that we cannot see each other anymore," said Severus rationally and though he thought he should have just said that he regretted that Remus would not stay, Remus's smile told him that he had said the right thing.

"True," Remus said, squeezing Severus's hand, "thank you for reminding me. Yet, I won't be as easy to see you every day, so I want to reserve all the free time I have for you."

"Because there is nothing in this castle that is more desirable than spending time with me?" asked Severus and Remus, who was much more obliging than Severus, gave him the answer he had wanted to hear.

"That is indeed the case," he chortled and leant a little to the side until their shoulders touched and their lips met.

But Severus pulled back and gave Remus a stern look that the werewolf answered with a quizzical smile. "Now that I come to think of it," said Severus slowly, "if you knew of the curse, why did you accept the job offer? Was it just your Gryffindor recklessness?"

Remus pulled Severus's hand onto his lap to hold it with both of his as he shook his head. "But how could I have declined, Severus, think about it," he replied softly. "The chance of my life, really. Teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, being Harry Potter's teacher, and to top it all off, receiving the Wolfsbane for at least one whole year. The curse didn't daunt me, it wasn't as though I had much to lose. It was a nice prospect to be among people again, to work in the profession I love, instead of continuing my lonely, aimless life. It didn't matter that the perfect life Albus was offering came with a time limit. No matter how short the time, I would have accepted the offer. And I trust myself not to lose my memory or die or vacate my position in any similar way." He fell silent and frowned, apparently disliking this topic as much as Severus did. In fact, Severus found himself disliking the topic extremely. Suddenly Remus shook his head, as if at himself. "It doesn't matter why I came here," he said firmly and looked at Severus, tightening his hold on Severus's hand. "What matters is why I want to stay."

"Because you want to be a teacher," said Severus matter-of-factly but Remus shook his head yet again.

"Of course I would like to stay here and teach," he said and was almost impatient now, "but I knew that teaching here, and especially teaching Harry, was only for one year. It is you whom I didn't expect to become so important to me. It is you whom I don't want to leave behind. It will never be so easy to be close to you again, that is why I want to use every second."

"With me?" asked Severus and thought that he did not yet comprehend what Remus meant when he said "true love".

Remus smiled warmly at him. "Of all the good things that I have here at Hogwarts, being with you is the best," he said and chuckled as he found Severus clearly speechless. He leant in and kissed Severus again and Severus pulled him close, shamelessly enjoying the intimacy and deepening it as his stomach churned. Remus's departure was suddenly very present and real to Severus. It would come, one way or another, the Dark Lord's curse could not be broken just by hope or willpower. Or love.

During the following week, Remus's health deteriorated rather worryingly, though the werewolf neither worked nor moved around much, as Severus had made him promise not to exert himself. He brought him the Wolfsbane every day and stayed with him for hours on end, quite uncharacteristically neglecting his own work and responsibilities. But he enjoyed very much the weight of Remus's head on his shoulder and the warmth of Remus's arms around him. Perhaps the season was getting to him, after all, but he liked to be told that he was loved. Every day. Even if it was only once. After a breathless kiss in front of the fireplace, at the door when saying goodnight, when rubbing Remus's back after he had only just managed to keep in the Wolfsbane, in a tight embrace on the sofa, when waking Remus carefully in the early afternoon.

By the time Christmas Eve arrived, and with it the day of the full moon, Remus looked decidedly ill, but he had insisted on visiting the staffroom to join the little celebration that took place every year, because this would be his only chance to do so. Severus had steadied him on their way downstairs but he had tried to talk him into turning around every time the werewolf's dizziness had thrown him off balance. Remus had merely chuckled and dismissed Severus's concerns.

"I have been much worse," he had said almost briskly, "and I managed alone. I'm grateful for your concern, but you needn't worry so much."

But Severus _did_ worry, mostly because he thought that Remus knew this full moon to be worse than usual but wouldn't admit it. To be sure, Remus looked cheerful enough when he sat chatting to Flitwick and Sprout, but Severus knew that he was just very good at concealing that he wasn't feeling at all well. Severus grudgingly allowed McGonagall to offer Remus some of her single-malt Scotch whisky, since he had not taken the Wolfsbane yet, and drank a glass with the both of them, appreciating the hot sensation unfolding in his mouth like smoke filling a room. It reminded him a little of what happened to his body whenever the werewolf kissed him. But soon enough, Remus was too tired to stay longer and he excused himself, leaving the staffroom and successfully making everybody but Severus believe that he was well.

Severus followed him a few minutes later to get the Wolfsbane, and was little surprised to find Remus leaning against the wall just outside the door, looking out of breath and in need of assistance. Severus sneered at him. "Why, Remus, I thought you could manage your way upstairs on your own, seeing as you have been worse and managed alone."

Remus gave him a nonchalant smile, which was quite an achievement considering the state he was in. "I didn't want you to feel useless," he said breathlessly, his voice not quite playing along with his smile, "so I thought I'd just stick around and wait for you."

Severus snorted. "Saying nothing is always better than talking nonsense," he replied, offering his arm to the werewolf, who took it gladly. "I knew it wasn't a good idea to let you come down here."

"I really do appreciate your concern," said Remus and this time he didn't add anything but let Severus savour his remark. He even volunteered another one. "You do know that you're the only one I'd let help me like this?"

By the time Severus had brought Remus back to his rooms and fetched the Wolfsbane, it was already late, and when Remus had finally drunk the Potion, sip by sip, the sun had almost set. Severus had decided to stay as long as Remus would let him, yet there was an unrest inside him, a nervousness that he tried not to show. He had no desire to see the transformation, partly because he knew it was very painful and he didn't want to see Remus suffer, partly because he did not want to see the stark reality of Remus's lycanthropy. It had been enough to glimpse it once, in his youth. He did not know how he would react if he saw it now, and he didn't want to risk his reaction hurting Remus.

Remus was silent the whole time that Severus stood at the window and they were both watching the sun setting, like watching the upper bulb of an hourglass emptying, the time that Remus would spend in sanity running out like grains of sand. When the sky was tinted red and the trees were casting long shadows on the snowy grounds, Remus cleared his throat to attract Severus's attention and nodded at him, lowering his eyes to the floor. Severus knew that this was his cue and he took the goblet, touched Remus's shoulder for a moment, and made for the door. His heart was already beating foolishly fast.

"I shall call on you tomorrow morning," he said quietly and as Remus nodded he closed the door, only just hearing Remus moaning softly before the door disappeared into the stone wall.

Severus barely slept that night. His mind was with the lonely wolf, lying in his sitting room under the Christmas tree, aching and dreading sunrise, for it meant more pain. When he sat up in bed next morning, he knew that Remus was moaning in pain a few floors above him and he felt indecent for having heard it last night, as though he had intruded on something very private which he had not been supposed to witness. Something too intense, too agonising, too hard to bear for Remus to show it to Severus. They were not close enough for that, after all. Remus had suppressed his moans until he had thought Severus out of earshot. But that was his prerogative. Even if Severus didn't like it. Didn't one show everything to the person one loved? But Severus wouldn't know that.

Skipping breakfast, Severus positively ran up the stairs to Remus's rooms, taking three steps at a time and passing through a ghost because he couldn't dodge it in time. Freezing, he entered Remus's bedroom and opened the curtains to reveal the snowy landscape and a surprisingly blue sky. He sat down on the edge of Remus's bed and reached into his pocket to make sure that it was still there. His present. He could, after all, not give Remus absolutely nothing when he knew that he would receive something from the werewolf. It wasn't much. A selection of high-quality chocolate and fudge, wrapped in red paper and delivered by owl from Edinburgh. Remus would like it.

Severus looked at Remus's sleeping face and found him pale and still quite ill. He couldn't bring himself to wake him. Remus's breathing was rattling and the rings under his eyes were very dark as he lay there, wrapped in his blanket and hugging his pillow. Severus ran his fingers lightly over Remus's forehead, brushing his fringe out of his closed eyes. He felt warm then and he remained sitting beside Remus for a long time, resting his hand on Remus's shoulder, his eyes drifting over Remus's face. But when Remus didn't wake, Severus thought he should let him sleep in and he pulled his present out of his pocket to leave it on the foot of Remus's bed along with the little pile of presents that the house-elves had put there. Then he took a last glance at Remus and left to fetch a potion for him before lunch.

Christmas lunch was highly unpleasant, not only because the few people who had stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays were all gathered at a single table in the middle of the Great Hall, but because Severus realised with a bit of a pang that he had forgotten Christmas breakfast with Albus over watching Remus sleep. He received his punishment at once when he pulled on one end of a cracker and Albus on the other: a witch's hat topped with a vulture emerged from it that looked just like the one Severus's Boggart-replica must have worn so many weeks ago. The only thing that Severus enjoyed during lunch was Trelawney's prediction that Potter or Weasley, or maybe even both, would soon die because they had risen first from a table of thirteen. Ah, and of course the fact that Granger told McGonagall about a _Firebolt_ broom Potter had received from a secret benefactor – naturally, it had to be confiscated right away! Perhaps this was not a good thing to tell Remus.

When Severus arrived in Remus's bedroom once again, the werewolf was finally awake and sitting up in bed, though his eyelids were drooping and his smile was weak. "Happy Christmas, Severus," he said very hoarsely as Severus approached him, producing the phial with Invigorating Draught from his pocket.

"Yes, yes, to you to," said Severus dismissively, sitting down on Remus's bed and pulling the stopper out of the phial. But before he could hand Remus the potion, the werewolf had pulled him into a hug that was quite weak. It did not cross Severus's mind even for a second to pull back before Remus let go of him, though. This feeling of being loved was too pleasant to end it. And after Severus had been shown the limits of their relationship, he rather took what he got. He shouldn't begrudge Remus the secrecy. After all, Remus didn't hold it against him that he never replied to his confessions.

"Thank you," said Remus when he finally pulled back and accepted the potion to drink it and regain some strength. "I think I'll stay in bed for now. It seems that I have enough to do here anyway," he added, indicating the presents at the foot of his bed with a vague smile.

"You are Hogwarts' favourite teacher," said Severus matter-of-factly, "I thought you had noticed. You do seem rather smug about it sometimes, strutting about the castle as if you owned it."

"That has to do more with my taming of Hogwarts' most feared teacher," replied Remus with a mischievous smile, picking up his wand from the nightstand to summon the first present. It was Severus's. As if Remus had some sixth sense that told him so. Severus got up from the bed and cleared his throat.

"Tea," he said curtly and Remus nodded placidly at him when he carefully pulled the ribbon from the box. Severus left the room and made some white tea. He took much more time than absolutely necessary before he returned to Remus's bedside, setting the cups down on the nightstand and avoiding Remus's eye. Remus had opened the box and Severus could feel his gaze on him. "Drink, you'll feel better."

"Severus," said Remus hoarsely and turned Severus's face towards him with a gentle hand. He was smiling in a way that Severus had only seen very rarely. Overflowing with love. "I already feel better."

Severus lowered his eyes, unable to hold that intense gaze, feeling unworthy of it. Remus should not direct such love at him. Not when Severus could not return it in like. Remus's hand gave his cheek a gentle caress before withdrawing. "I did not want to arrive empty-handed," muttered Severus, fixing his eyes on Remus's other hand. He could read the card it was holding, though it was upside down. It was his own narrow handwriting and it was just another sign of their unbalanced relationship. There was no love on that card, there was only a "To my enduring patient", and Severus had even felt awkward when writing "my" on that card.

But Remus seemed pleased nonetheless. Maybe that "my" was what he had been looking for. "Thank you, that was very thoughtful," said Remus and waved his wand again. "Could you please catch the present for me? It is a tad heavy." And he indicated a green present that was soaring towards them through the sitting-room door. Severus complied and held the present in his hands, waiting for Remus to reach for it, but the werewolf only chuckled at his ignorance. "It is for you," he said and Severus looked up at him, "open it, if you like." And he brushed Severus's hair out of his face, letting his fingers graze Severus's neck, inciting a tingling sensation in him.

Severus started unwrapping the present awkwardly. When the green paper slipped off, Severus could barely trust his eyes. It was a leather-bound book, old but perfectly preserved. And it wasn't just any book. Severus let his fingers run over the embossed title of _Revolutionary Potion-Making Vol. 1: Experiments, Approaches, and Solutions to Impossibilities_. It was a rare first edition, one of the books that one would only find in antiquaries nowadays, at horrendous prices, if at all. It was just what had been missing in Severus's collection. He looked up at Remus, staring at him in incredulity. Remus just smiled serenely at him.

"Where in Salazar's name did you get this?" Severus asked, his mouth dry and his heart racing he knew not why.

"I did not get it," Remus said and his smile twitched, "I had it. It is my father's. I'm afraid that my father and grandfather wrote in it, but else it is in very good condition and maybe you will be interested in the notes. It is no use to me and it only has a sentimental value, but I know you will honour it with the respect it deserves. So have it."

Severus noticed that he was leaning closer to Remus, clutching the book in both hands. He did not stop himself. He leant in until the werewolf embraced him and he laid an arm round Remus's shoulders. Then he pulled back again, bursting with curiosity, and opened the book at random, breathing in the dusty, mouldy scent of the old pages. There were definite traces of Remus's father's attempts to cure lycanthropy in the form of notes on the margins of the pages concerning " _Transformations_ " and " _Cures for the Incurable_ ". Severus looked back up at Remus, his heart still beating faster than usual and his body inclined towards the werewolf.

"Do you even know what this is worth?" he asked urgently and was sure that he was flushing now, though he did not know why.

"I do," confirmed Remus, who was still holding Severus's present in his hands, "but as I said, it has a sentimental value and I wouldn't just sell it to a stranger." He let his fingers gently trace his father's handwriting on one of the pages. Severus's stomach churned.

"Then you shouldn't –"

"I want you to have it, Severus," interrupted Remus and traced Severus's jaw with the same gentleness. "I know it will be in good hands if you have it. And I can tell what it means to you."

Severus closed the book again, holding it on his lap with one hand and reaching for Remus with the other, running his fingers over Remus's cheek, drinking in his handsome features. And then he could not but kiss Remus, pushing him against the headboard as he pressed closer with his whole body. He felt so drawn to Remus at this moment, so grateful, that he just needed to kiss him. And Remus pulled him close, feeling so familiar that it calmed Severus's heart.

As Severus pulled back, he did so in one swift movement, feeling rather uncomfortable with this lack of control, this open display of emotion, but Remus smiled in satisfaction, licking his lips as he watched Severus compose himself. And it seemed that Remus felt just as drawn to him, for after a few moments Remus shuffled close, wincing a little, and pressed against Severus's back, holding onto his shoulders. Severus felt his warm breath tickling his neck. Severus's grip on the book tightened. This was not just an ordinary present, this was a token of Remus's love. This was something that was passed down in a family and never left it. So did Remus consider him family?

"You could have chosen better than me," Severus muttered, and his brow creased. "Anyone would have been better for you."

"Don't be silly," replied Remus hoarsely, "you are perfect. No one better."

But Remus did not understand. It was not as though Severus wanted him to … "But I am –"

"You are you," said Remus patiently, "and I am a werewolf. So we both have our hands full with each other." He sounded amused and Severus couldn't find it in himself to contradict. "I love you, Severus. Don't tell me that my love is ill-placed when I know it isn't."

Severus's heart was beating fast again and he leant back into Remus, who wrapped his arms round him. What he was feeling for him now was so intense that he couldn't even begin to describe it. As if he had been dipped in the gold of those eyes, of Remus's soul, as if its splendor had finally reached him in the shadows that had held him captive. How should he deal with or show such feelings? They made him feel vulnerable. Severus didn't like feeling vulnerable. But then again, this was Remus, who had made himself so much more vulnerable than Severus ever could.

"Remus," said Severus finally but then his voice failed him. His heart was constricting his throat. Remus tightened his hold on him and kissed his cheek.

"I'm glad you are here, Severus," he whispered, his lips touching Severus's ear, "that is the greatest gift to me."

And indeed, for the remainder of Severus's stay, he did not pay any attention to the gifts that were still lying at the foot of his bed, but held onto Severus, watching the snow falling outside the window. Severus, too, was glad that he was here, that he was not just allowed to be here but wanted. And for the first time in his life, he felt at home.


	20. Lesson Twenty: A Cross To Bear

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: I liked writing this chapter, I hope you'll enjoy it.

* * *

 **Lesson Twenty: A Cross To Bear**

It was pleasantly intense just how much closer Severus felt to Remus now. He had locked the token of Remus's love safely in a special compartment in his favourite bookcase, one with a little glass door and a golden key. Nothing and no one was to touch it. It was of such meaningful importance that it hovered between them like an invisible bond, something that reflected how well they knew each other and how close they had grown. There were moments when Severus thought he had better give it back, simply because he neither deserved nor returned the love that Remus had poured into this present, but more and more often he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, reasoning with himself that he was devoted to the werewolf in his own way, and that he was both loyal and caring when it came to him, which was more than anybody else could say of Severus. He felt closer to Remus than to anyone else, he wanted to be with him as often as he could, because he appreciated his presence.

Yet, he also appreciated occasional hours of solitude, a solitude, no less, that he knew he could escape from whenever he wished, by simply climbing the stairs to Remus's office and visiting him with the air of a man who had been in the vicinity and dropped by with no ulterior motive. This awareness made Severus's solitude feel much less like a prison, and after having spent several days with Remus almost constantly by his side – save at night because that was a line they had not yet crossed – he had chosen to take a walk alone, without asking the werewolf for his company.

The silence of this solitude was a pleasant one and only the whistling of the wind in the trees and the crunching of his steps in the snow disturbed it as Severus walked along the lake. He had used the seldom occasion of completely empty grounds as he usually did when most students were not at Hogwarts, for he could not usually take a walk in peace when they were there. He enjoyed the absence of prying eyes when he took a route through virgin snow, as he liked to do, he knew not really why. Maybe it was the notion of being the first to touch it, to disturb the tranquil shield covering the grass. Or maybe it emphasised the solitude, made sure that there would be no one else waiting in that direction. And perhaps it was even that he liked to look back and see his footprints standing out vividly to mark whence he had come. That was a recurring motif in his life, after all. Looking back at where he had come from, and appreciating what he had achieved. At least that was what Remus would say.

As he looked up at the castle to find Remus's windows, some of the very few behind which there were eyes to watch him, he took a deep breath, scanning each of Remus's mullioned windows to see whether there was light or the silhouette of a man. He found nothing. But then, at this time of day, Remus could very well still be in bed, or just sitting on the sofa, in semi-darkness, looking at the grey sky, listening to the freezing silence in his rooms and watching the silent cold outside, without the crackling of a fire to warm or disturb his solitary meditation. Severus had found him like that a few times and wondered at it. Remus had said it was to feel himself, to become more aware of himself and to know himself. Severus had pointed out that it only emphasised that he was alone and asked if that did not bother him after all those lonely years which had, as Remus had confessed, marked him deeply. But knowing oneself and being able to endure one's own company was one of the vital parts of surviving a solitary life, Remus had explained. And Severus wouldn't know, because he had never taken much time to get to know himself in silence. Whenever he had felt his "own company" approaching, unpleasantly so, he had sought noise or people, or something to do to distract himself. Facing his solitude, getting to know himself, was not something he fancied. There was too much in the wake of himself to be able to endure it. And he, unlike Remus, had neither the patience nor the will nor, indeed, the need to do so. Were he forced to live in silence and isolation, like Remus had been for so long, he would perhaps have to learn the hard way how one endured one's own presence without going mad.

And as though Remus had seen all those thoughts pouring out of Severus's eyes, he had smiled a vague smile and gone on to explain that separating himself from the wolf, unweaving the threads inside him with steady, concentrated fingers, was easiest when sitting in silence like this without a disturbance to distract him. It had taken him many years to master that form of meditation but then he had succeeded in controlling himself fully and hiding the wolf away from prying eyes. After such a meditation, he felt more like himself than he usually did, and being in his own company was almost pleasant. That was how he managed to appear fully human and not the least bit wolfish, unlike most of his "fellows", as he called them.

"But even for a non-werewolf, being comfortable in one's own company is very important, Severus," he had said with that twinkle in his eyes, "and very much possible after enough time spent in self-awareness. No need to be afraid of that."

Severus had downright denied being afraid and Remus had chuckled. But even now, when he was practically alone out here, he was not truly isolated, there were people close-by, albeit people he did not particularly fancy a chat with, and there was the crunching of the snow, and even his mind had other things to resort to than occupying itself with itself. There was always someone or something Severus could turn to. He did not know the intense loneliness Remus had lived in. True, Severus was just as lonely when he was surrounded by people and busy with duties as Remus had been, unemployed, all alone in his cottage all those years. But Severus did not know the silence. His own silence was a relaxing one, one that could be broken any time, not least of all with Albus. Remus's silence was absolute, and when it was broken, then always with people who didn't know the least bit about him, people to whom he could show nothing but his superficial mask. And as little as one confidant seemed, one was still more than none.

"But why would I make the effort? I am not alone, and I'll likely never be, for better or worse," Severus had grumbled and indeed felt some kind of defiant irritation. But Remus, he had realised then, would have been grateful even for forced company.

"If you find yourself all alone one day, you don't want to waste precious energy on coming to terms with yourself," he had said softly, "you want to do that now, while you have the liberty to choose to do it. During my first weeks of solitude I could barely eat or sleep, and when I slept I was afraid of getting up in the morning … I didn't know what to do with myself. I was talking to myself. Feeling lost and useless. And completely unable to prevent the wolf from interfering with my feelings and making it worse. You have no idea how long a day can be." He had looked at Severus then, as though realising that he was depressing him and he had reached out a warm hand with a smile and taken Severus's cold one. "But you'll have me. And if I can help it, I won't leave you. So we will never be alone again."

And it was true of course, only with each other did they truly forget that they had been alone all their lives with no hope of finding a kindred spirit. That was perhaps the main reason why Severus wanted to be with Remus. He didn't feel the tiniest bit alone with Remus, the werewolf was the only one who gave him the feeling that he was not on his own, that he had only himself to rely on. And even though Remus could only stay at Hogwarts for one year, he would never have to live in silence again. Severus would be there for him to break it. How unlikely it had all seemed just a few months ago. How natural it felt now.

And maybe it was that selfsame feeling that Severus had when he walked through virgin snow. A feeling he had had for some time. Especially when he thought of Remus's words from a few weeks ago, "I have not truly loved since." It was like walking in uncharted territory. As though Severus had ventured forth to where nobody else had made it before him. Having to share none of it. No matter who had held Remus before, nobody had been so close to him, nobody had touched his soul, so vulnerable that it was only exposed to the one whom Remus deemed worthy, deemed his equal. "I love you." And Severus had never believed it more than at that moment of Remus's battered soul lying prone before him. There had been so much more to that confession than just the plain words. It had told him that he was the only one who had had what it took to truly touch Remus's heart. That he was the only one. And maybe it was also that all those who came after him could leave their footprints, but none would be as deep, as memorable, as significant as his. And none would be so truly loved.

Not that Severus would let others follow. If he could help it, Remus would remain his. And how selfish that was. Severus had no love to offer. But somehow he believed more and more that Remus did not need it. Even if he deserved it. Suddenly Severus felt constricted and he knew it was because he was sinking deeper and deeper into this business with Remus, and he was about to submerge. It was still disquieting to think that he would soon be so wrapped up that there would be no escaping. And more disquieting still that he almost wished for it to happen so he could not wind out of it anymore. Severus stopped in his progression round the water's edge. He took a few deep breaths and looked up at the cloudy sky. The air smelt of snow and was cold to nose and ears, and it cleared the mind. Did he want to hold on to Remus, even though he could not give him what he deserved, merely to satisfy their mutual need for a companion? But it was much more than that. Wasn't it? And there was such a moment of his own company creeping up on him …

He shook his head at himself and buried his face in his scarf, looking around for something to occupy his mind and push himself out of it. He was at the far side of the lake, the ice separating him from the castle. He sighed when his eyes wandered over the Whomping Willow and the greenhouses. As a boy, just having left school, he would never have believed that he'd return. Hogwarts was not the most pleasant place to be. He had many unpleasant memories of his school days, and his job as a teacher wasn't exactly the job of his dreams. Yet, Hogwarts had been a sanctuary after the Dark Lord's fall, when Severus had been alone, no outlook in life, only just evaded Azkaban. And his rooms in the dungeons had been more of a home to him than any other place in the world. At the castle, he was not the alleged Death Eater, he was a respected colleague and he had a task. He was trusted. Even with the lives of many children. And it gave him a sort of grim satisfaction. A satisfaction for which Remus had needed to wait for many years.

Which was probably why Remus savoured that honour now. And he did see it as an honour. Of course he was also a born teacher, with every fibre of his body. It was not that he constantly tried to educate everybody, on the contrary, it was rather the way he made one think about things, the way he cared about one's well-being and always had a helping hand. The way he made no difference between people, be it Slytherins and Gryffindors, or Death Eaters and honest citizens. He had what it took to be an excellent teacher, Severus could acknowledge that now. Severus sighed. Remus had taught him one or two things, too.

Suddenly there was a faint crunching, then a soft sliding noise behind his back and he whirled round, whipping out his wand, only to see Remus close enough behind him to be startled by this reaction. Clearly in surprise, Remus slipped on the ice of the lake he had just stepped on and Severus reacted instinctively, trying to break Remus's fall by lunging forward and catching him round the chest. But Severus did not have the footing to support Remus's weight and thus he was pulled to his knees as Remus landed half on the ice and half in the deep snow.

"That is what you get for sneaking up on me," snapped Severus as Remus moaned in pain, twisting to rub the small of his back, which had collided with the ice. "Silly werewolf."

But instead of being offended and moving away, as Severus would have done, Remus just slumped back against Severus's stomach and looked up at him with a wan smile. "I didn't mean to sneak up on you, it just so happened that you didn't notice me," he said hoarsely, reaching up to Severus's face to pull him down for a kiss. But Severus yanked himself away, causing Remus to topple over backwards without him to lean on.

"Not here!" he snapped, watching as Remus sighed heavily and let his arms flop into the snow like a child would to make an angel in it. "And do get up, or you'll catch a cold!"

Remus tried to obey, but struggled – on purpose as Severus suspected – with the ice under his feet, until Severus took mercy on him and seized his arm to pull him to his feet. Remus nodded his thanks and linked arms with Severus – the most that Severus would allow even this far from the castle. Remus was wrapped in a thick cloak, a garment Severus had made him invest in before Christmas. One could not survive Scotland without a decent cloak. Least of all when one was a werewolf with weak defences, utterly vulnerable to colds once a month. Though Remus had recovered quickly after the last full moon, exhaustion was still clearly written on his face and he leaned on Severus as he held onto his arm.

"I happened to be taking a walk just inside the Forest," said Remus and his voice sounded subdued, as though he was hurt by Severus's refusal to kiss him. "When I saw you, I wanted to walk with you, rather than alone, but if you'd rather I left you to yourself, you need only say."

Severus gave him a sidelong glance and found Remus's amber eyes watching him expectantly. "No," said Severus, covering Remus's hand in the crook of his arm with his own. "Your company is preferable to any kind of solitude." And it was no lie. Remus smiled and couldn't suppress a satisfied sigh. Severus wondered if he could catch his foggy breath in a phial.

After they had walked a short distance together, Severus glanced over his shoulder at the footprints they were leaving in the otherwise untouched snow, telling of their togetherness. They were now out of sight of the castle and Hagrid's hut, hidden in some sort of kink in the edge of the Forest. Remus stopped under a thickly branched tree that was covered in snow and turned to Severus to snake his arms around Severus's waist and press his lips against Severus's in a much belated kiss. He caught Severus off-guard as he pushed against him, shoving him back against the tree trunk. The impact sent snow sliding off the quivering branches and falling onto their heads and shoulders and Remus broke the kiss, his foggy laughter disturbing the air once more.

"Now look at what you've done," muttered Severus as Remus pressed his warm body against him, his eyes gleaming with mischief again. Severus's hands found their way to Remus's bare neck and his cold, ungloved fingers burnt with the contact of the werewolf's warm skin. He pulled Remus in for another kiss, surprising them both, and the icy cold seemed to be swallowed by Remus's heat, and Severus had the feeling that not only the snow on their heads and shoulders was melting but they as well, into each other, becoming one warm body. When their lips parted again, Remus laid his cheek against Severus's, tightening his arms around him, and their weight rested heavily against the tree, whose bark was slightly uncomfortable in Severus's back. Severus brushed the snow off Remus's cloak and hair, scooping some stray lumps out of Remus's collar as he saw them clinging to Remus's skin, melting slowly and sliding down to unpleasant regions.

"You will fall ill again, dunderhead," Severus said much more gently than he had meant to, and he pulled his own scarf from his neck to wrap it round Remus's. "One cannot survive Scotland without a decent scarf. One of these days I shall write a book with those rules."

"And give it to me, signed and all, I hope," said Remus, freeing Severus from the snow. "I don't want you to be the one falling ill now."

"I told you that I am never ill," said Severus indifferently.

Remus chuckled. And it was then that Severus noticed that Remus chuckled often, but only seldom did he laugh out loud. Of course Severus's company wasn't usually forthcoming with very humorous situations. He was careful not to give anyone opportunity to laugh at him, too scarring had his childhood as the school's laughing stock been. But there were other reasons to laugh than jokes or funny situations. There was plain and simple joy, happiness, high spirits. But there was another thing they had in common, the way their lives had gone had made them forget those things, had made their laughter rusty. Sometimes Severus didn't know if he'd be able to laugh if he tried.

"Severus," said Remus softly, and his face became serious.

"Yes?" prompted Severus when Remus didn't continue.

"Do you ever think about the future?" Remus asked then, but Severus didn't have the feeling that he was required to answer, so he didn't. "About how you want to spend your life? I have had a lot of time to think about it. And though there was little chance of my circumstances improving, I always hoped that they would. Poverty, unemployment, loneliness, with no possibility of ever being accepted in normal society – not a life a man would want to live, even less so when it is as long as a wizard's … of course my own will be rather shorter than a normal life, due to my condition, but I did hope that, one day, I would have more in that life than books, tea, and chocolate to brighten my day. The occasional chat with a Muggle neighbour doesn't usually quench the thirst for real relationships, after all."

He gave Severus a slight smile, but Severus's face was stern. He wondered if Remus had ever thought about putting himself out of his own misery. But then Remus was strong, he had probably never even considered such an escape. He had probably defied misery as much as he defied anything and anyone who dared oppose him. And his patience had paid off, hadn't it?

"And now I am here with you, a teacher, treated to Wolfsbane every month," Remus confirmed Severus's thoughts. "That is more than I could have asked for. The future suddenly seems so promising. And who knows, maybe someday soon a cure for my condition will be found and I will become a normal man."

Severus lowered his eyes. He doubted that Remus would ever become a normal man, even if a cure for his lycanthropy was found. Such a cure could never reverse what the curse had done to Remus, how people had treated him, how it had taught him pain and hopelessness. Nothing could be undone or unseen or unheard. And a cure would not change people's attitudes towards a werewolf, even a cured one. And was it egoistic to wish that nothing would change? Was it selfish to wish for Remus to stay as broken as he was? As broken as Severus? That was the way they were perfect for each other. Remus as he was now, so like and so unlike Severus, was the man Severus had grown to appreciate and to cherish. He pulled Remus closer to bathe in his warmth.

"Hope never dies," whispered Remus, his lips brushing Severus's ear. Severus didn't answer. He knew hope. He knew how agonising it could be when it wasn't fulfilled. "Maybe I'm weak for hoping. Maybe I hope because I am too weak not to."

"In my experience, hope is a companion of the strong, not the weak," muttered Severus, pressing his lips to the soft skin behind Remus's ear.

"Maybe I am weak for hoping that no cure will be found," Remus said absently, his fingers digging into Severus's back as he pressed into Severus's kiss. "Just so I can have you care for me every month for the rest of my life."

And there he had spoken a truth that Severus would not have brought over his lips even if he had wanted to. But it was satisfying to know that Remus – who was, after all, the one suffering from this condition – would not have been offended had Severus spoken about his own thoughts on the matter.

"You could just accidentally eat something poisonous every month and come to me for antidotes to compensate," said Severus to diffuse the heavily meaningful tension.

Remus laughed huskily and Severus couldn't help but capture those warm lips with his own, stealing the laughter away, swallowing it whole before it could foggily dissolve in the freezing air. And hidden under the thick branches of the snow-capped tree, they stood in a warm embrace until even Remus's seemingly infinite supply of body heat had run out and no kiss could replenish it anymore. Then they walked back to the castle through virgin snow, arms linked, two pairs of footprints marking whence they had come.

Far too soon, the castle was filled with noisy dunderheads again and such secret getaways were no longer possible, leaving Severus and Remus with too much work and too little time together. This made Severus approach Remus whenever possible, between classes, at meals, during patrolling nights, even when there was no hope of physical interaction. It was enough to just stand close together and know that they _could_ touch if they so wished. One such opportunity occurred on a Wednesday afternoon, when Severus spotted the werewolf sticking his head into a broom cupboard on the first floor. Mere curiosity would have been enough to make Severus investigate this strange behaviour, even if he hadn't been starving for Remus's attention anyway. So Severus walked across to him, making sure the corridor was empty, and leaned forward to look over Remus's shoulder.

"What are you doing?" asked Severus lazily and made Remus jump and turn to face him.

"Severus," he said, closing the door of the cupboard, "you gave me a start."

Far from apologising, Severus raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a pointed look. "Well?" he prompted. "What were you looking for in that broom cupboard?"

"I was looking for a Boggart," replied Remus mildly, putting his hand on Severus's shoulder to steer him down the corridor, "but it seems that there are none left in the castle. You wouldn't happen to be at fault for that?" He looked at Severus with that amused light in his eyes that told Severus that he was joking.

"What do you need a Boggart for?" asked Severus curtly, unwilling to play along.

Remus seemed to be weighing his words, forming them carefully in his mouth, letting them roll over his tongue to test how they felt before letting his lips utter them. That wasn't a good sign. "Harry's Boggart is a Dementor," he said slowly, his grip on Severus's shoulder tightening a fraction. "Quite ideal, really, for learning the Patronus Charm under realistic conditions."

Severus gave him his darkest scowl. "You are going to teach him, then?" Remus inclined his head with a calm smile.

"And before we enter into an argument about favouring students, or my right to give a single student Patronus lessons, let me forestall you by saying that Albus has already given his consent and that's that," said Remus, raising his voice slightly as Severus tried to interrupt. "I think we all agree that Harry should be able to live without the voices of his dying parents in his ears."

And that silenced Severus effectively. Nothing could change that he didn't like it, however. Potter didn't deserve Remus's attention or his affection. Or, indeed, his time. The precious time that should be reserved for Severus. And it would take a lot of that time to teach a thirteen-year-old to perform the Patronus Charm. How much hope was there, anyway, with Potter's mediocre talent?

"Don't you think that you are letting him bite off a little more than he can chew?" asked Severus coldly, letting Remus guide him up the stairs to the second floor. "That he might be too young to master such an advanced spell?"

"Possibly," said Remus noncommittally. "Won't find out unless we try, will we?"

"I suppose …" muttered Severus, being led up yet another flight of stairs to the third floor. "Where are we going?"

Remus glanced at him and barely suppressed a smile. "Somewhere we can be alone," he said and led Severus down a corridor to his classroom. Once they were inside and the door was closed, Remus turned to him and sighed. "Listen, I know you don't approve, but I need to teach Harry," he said and Severus huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He had expected more from being locked in an empty classroom with Remus. Not that he would ever admit that. "So, if you can help me in any way, I'd appreciate that. If you are planning on sabotaging me, you should know better. I will foresee any attempt to do so and my retaliation will be ruthless." He smiled then, with a twitch in the corners of his mouth. Apparently considering the argument settled, Remus approached Severus, cupping his face with gentle hands as he kissed him softly, giving him what he had expected to receive from the moment Remus had said "alone".

When the bell rang to call them to their duties, Severus got up from the desk he'd been sitting on to reluctantly detach himself from Remus, who was kissing him with renewed fervour, as though trying to defy the bloody bell. When Severus reached the door, having left Remus on the desk looking satisfactorily disappointed that their time was already over, he seized the doorknob and without looking at Remus he said, "Filch's office might be the right place to look for what you need." Then he opened the door and swept out of it, just as the first students streamed into the corridor. Remus's call of thanks was almost drowned by the chattering of the children.

On Thursday, Severus witnessed something highly improbable: Filch thanking Remus as the latter left the former's office with a large packing case. Remus, of course, was all smiles and politeness as usual, but it was enough to make anyone startle who had been at school with Remus, who had usually only left that office after another one of his crimes had been recorded and he'd been sentenced to some tedious detention or other. As Remus passed him in the corridor, Severus changed direction to walk with him.

"Been successful, I gather?"

Remus nodded, shifting the case to be able to carry it more comfortably. "Mr Filch wasn't exactly delighted when I turned up in his office – quite a few hard feelings there, that I justly earned when I was a student," he chuckled and Severus snorted, "but when I asked him if he wanted me to take care of his Boggart, he was kind enough to let me proceed. Apparently nobody else had found it in themselves to care yet, so I suppose he was glad. Even if it was me."

Severus looked at Remus and found that gleam of mischief in his eyes that was the only obvious reminder that this man had once been part of the worst group of pranksters Hogwarts had ever seen, and a regular in Filch's office. Indeed he had changed so much in appearance and personality, had grown and matured and become a man, that there was barely any reminder left that he had once been a boy.

"That office must have spurred some memories …" said Severus with a smirk and Remus chuckled.

"Oh, it did," he admitted and stopped at the stairs that Severus would descend, while he would go on, "I was surprised at just how small it is. I remember it as being bigger, and him as being taller."

"You weren't as tall as you are now," Severus pointed out, "you were but a boy."

Remus nodded and looked almost reminiscent. Then he looked into Severus's eyes. "Tonight's Harry's first Patronus lesson," he said and Severus tapped his fingers impatiently on the banister, "would you mind if I came by your rooms after?"

Hesitating just for the sake of it, Severus watched the packing case quiver. He was glad that he didn't have to face the Boggart. "As long as you don't bring that thing, you are welcome," he said and Remus smiled.

"Don't worry, he'll move into my desk, he'll like it there," he replied, patting the quivering case. Yet another roommate, then.

"What makes you think that I was speaking of the Boggart?" asked Severus smoothly. "I meant Potter." And as Remus chuckled, Severus turned and descended the stairs.

It was nearly ten when Remus finally stepped out of the fireplace in Severus's sitting room, brushing soot and ashes off his robes. Severus had prepared a bottle of wine and two glasses and been waiting for Remus for quite a while. At least Remus hadn't forgotten. But as the werewolf ran a hand through his greying hair and heaved an exhausted sigh, Severus thought he detected some desperation in his features.

"Evening, Severus," said Remus hoarsely, "sorry for making you wait."

Severus poured two glasses of wine as Remus sat down beside him. "Well?" he asked without preamble, when Remus accepted his glass with a word of thanks.

After having taken a sip of wine, Remus closed his eyes and leant back, stretching out his legs as though he was making himself at home, never to get up again. It took him a few moments of this relaxation to muster the energy to answer. "That Dementor affected me quite a bit more than I had anticipated," he offered as an apology before getting to the point, eyes still closed. "Harry did well. Managed not to pass out the third time around. A good start. But the Boggart …" Remus paused and turned his face to Severus as he opened his eyes. He did look rather paler even than usual. "Harry heard his father, too, this time, not only his mother."

Remus wasn't forthcoming with any more information and Severus didn't need it. "If it is painful to you, you should not continue," he said firmly, "nobody expects you to put yourself through such pain week after week, no matter what Potter's needs might be."

"There is no backing out now," said Remus just as firmly, "I want to help him." And that was that, as it seemed.

"I hope the arrogant brat is grateful, at least," muttered Severus into his wine and was rather surprised when he felt Remus's hand running gently over his forearm. He had expected quite a different reaction to this remark.

"It really is no wonder that Harry dislikes you," said Remus mildly, in an almost understanding tone. "I know that you see his father in him, I know that you cannot like a boy who is the spitting image of somebody who tormented you … but if you took a closer look, you'd see that he is not entirely like James, and that he would never do what James did in his day. He doesn't deserve the revenge you could not have on James. And you don't deserve his hatred."

"His hatred is well placed," said Severus dismissively, "anything but hatred from him would be less than I deserve."

"You cannot accept his hatred as punishment for something you had no control over, I've told you before," said Remus, and there was the teacher in him, believing that Severus was better than he gave himself credit for. "We were mere pawns in a much bigger game. Our actions were not always our responsibility. We did what we were told."

"I accept responsibility for every ill deed I did, as well as its consequences, while serving the Dark Lord," replied Severus sharply. "I don't have the luxury to think of my crimes as part of Dumbledore's greater good. Nor am I weak enough to try and spread the blame. I can only atone for what I have done by acknowledging it and accepting my punishment."

"But the deaths of Harry's parents –" Remus began, but Severus wouldn't have it.

"Were only the last in a long line of deaths I was involved in …" he snarled and wanted to take a sip of his wine when Remus took his glass from him and set it down beside his own.

"I've already given you my thoughts on that," Remus said mildly, laying his arm round Severus's tense shoulders. "In my eyes you have redeemed yourself."

"You cannot simply pretend that I never killed innocent people –"

"I didn't say that I did," said Remus in that patient tone of his, "I said that you have changed. And that change deserves forgiveness, no matter what you have been made to believe."

Severus shrugged off Remus's arm and got to his feet. He wanted to hear those words but at the same time they stung so much that he couldn't bear them. A good man like Remus should never forgive such horrid crimes, even less so without ever having heard the gruesome details. Then again, who but a good man _would_ forgive Severus? He looked at the werewolf over his shoulder. Remus watched him with his amber eyes wide open. He looked compassionate, rather than pitying. Surely he could be trusted with this. His judgment would be fair. Or as fair as any man's, concerning the ill deeds of his beloved.

"When I was young, in fact until I was twenty-one years old, I looked up to the Dark Lord," Severus said quietly, "and I agreed with his teachings. With most of them, anyway. He was the first to recognise my talents. In the inner circle, with the Dark Mark on my arm, nobody laughed at me anymore. I sought power and acknowledgement, the Dark Lord gave me both. And though I no longer worship him, I continue to admire and fear his powers. And I am just like him … pureblood mother, rotten Muggle father, and what it made of me –"

"Is nothing even remotely like your Dark Lord," Remus cut in and his voice was as warm as his hand as he reached for Severus's. "Take my word for it." And there was nothing more that Remus needed to say. He pulled Severus back on the sofa and squeezed the back of his neck as he pressed his forehead against Severus's temple.

"You would know, wouldn't you?" asked Severus, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I am confident that I would," agreed Remus quietly, but there was no smile in his voice. "I believe that a man who has risked his life for others, a man who helps others like you do, deserves better than to be compared to the worst the wizarding world has ever seen."

"That would apply to you, too," said Severus quietly, fully aware that Remus had indeed been treated very poorly by those who had been his brothers in arms during the war, including Dumbledore. And nobody could convince Severus that it wasn't because of his affliction. "Yet you received much less help and support than I did."

"I wasn't looking for support or help," said Remus stiffly, his pride kicking in like Severus's would have. "But I did expect a letter once in a while, I did expect people to stop in the street when they saw me. I suppose I shouldn't have hoped. Even Dumbledore barely talked to me. I was forbidden to see Harry. Even though I was the only one who could really have told him about his parents. It didn't matter. I didn't matter."

"You matter," muttered Severus, more to himself than to Remus. They mattered to each other, what else did they need?

Remus looked round at him, appearing surprised. "I do now, don't I?" he said. "Now that Dumbledore needs me."

"That's not what I meant," replied Severus, glancing at Remus.

"Oh," said Remus after a moment of confusion. "Thank you."

They were silent for a while and Remus took Severus's hand, lacing their fingers. Severus looked at their hands.

"I'm glad that I don't have to talk to myself anymore," said Remus then, with a wry smile. "Having no one … to rely on, or even to talk to …"

And Severus realised all at once how wonderful Hogwarts must be to Remus, who was sociable at heart, a skilful conversationalist, charming and knowledgeable. Severus had had to admit after only a short time that Remus was quite nice to talk to. He always had something worthwhile to say. How terrible must it have been for the werewolf not to be able to talk to anyone much? Constantly hiding a part of himself.

"I am here now," said Severus at once, and Remus's smile became something between sad and pleased.

"Yes … yes, you are," he said quietly, letting his golden eyes wander over Severus's face in something like a caress.

"I won't abandon you," Severus reassured him and Remus lowered his eyes. When he looked up again, they were twinkling.

"And I will be there for you. Always." And they sealed this with a kiss that left no doubt in Severus.

Remus made it a ritual to visit Severus's quarters after every Patronus lesson, often taciturn and melancholy, sometimes very talkative, rarely only interested in kissing and holding Severus. Severus often had the impression that Remus was spilling all the words to him that he had not been able to utter in the past decade, that he wanted all the body contact he could get, for he rarely ever even shook hands with other people, because he had often been met by disgust when people knew what he was. Severus had become his confidant, someone to rely on. That was very evident during these visits. And most of all when they were just sitting in each other's presence in pleasant silence, at ease and comfortable together. Severus enjoyed his company and his voice talking so eagerly or its silence ringing in his ears, and he was more and more inclined to let Remus's arms encircle his waist from behind while he was brewing a potion or to kiss Remus when his face was sad, making the werewolf lean in and against him. Remus drew solace from Severus, and Severus took pride and pleasure in that fact, knowing that when Remus smiled at him it was real, not a mask, and it conquered the melancholia.

Not that he said much, or that his manners had improved, or indeed that he kept his snarky remarks to himself. But Remus saw past all that. Saw that Severus cared. He simply ignored what he knew to be idle talk and was patience incorporated. Maybe that was the only, but at the very least the strongest reason for Remus's ability and willingness to spend so much time with Severus. Their relationship certainly wasn't a harmonic one, if harmony meant peace and agreement, though it was balanced, them being opposites. And apparently Severus gave Remus what he needed when he came vulnerable and troubled to him, after yet another Patronus lesson. Apart from the time that those lessons stole, Severus wished Remus would stop them simply because they left him so drained and sad. Severus knew what it meant to Remus, always wearing his fake cheerfulness in front of others, to let his guard down and show how he truly felt. It meant letting Severus in on something no one was supposed to see, sharing it with him to relieve the pain. With him rather than with anyone else. It must be cathartic to have somebody being there for him after so many years of being alone with his every sorrow.

"I would never have believed that this would happen to me," Remus said that night, in Severus's embrace just inside the door of the lab, about to leave.

"What?" asked Severus, bewildered. Remus pressed his cheek to Severus's as he replied.

"You … Especially because I never expected to be able to have a normal relationship with anyone, being what I am. With you, though, I'm sure that you understand the risk and know how to deal with it. When I'm with you, I don't feel like I'm recklessly and selfishly endangering you, or like I'm a burden to you and make your life unduly hard, I don't feel unworthy or untouchable. I feel like just another man. Well, like a special man, but a man nonetheless." As he pulled back, he gave Severus a nonchalant smile, punctuating his last remark.

"You seem like the opposite of untouchable to me," said Severus silkily, running his hands down Remus's arms. Remus's smile grew a little crooked then and Severus knew that this was probably the first time since his friends had died that somebody had said this to him. "I don't know how many times you have heard the opposite, or from whom, but you are neither unworthy nor untouchable. And you are allowed to be in a relationship, no matter if your partner knows how to handle your condition or not."

Remus looked choked for a moment, caressing Severus's face with feathery fingers. "That is kind of you to say," he said when he regained his voice. "But it's my responsibility to make sure that my partner understands what it means to be with me."

Severus grasped his hands. He knew that Remus wanted him to commit to him. And he would. "I do understand," he said firmly. Remus nodded with his customary smile and made to leave but Severus seized his wrists and held him in place. "I understand that being with you means to be subjected to unwavering kindness, patient understanding, and unconditional devotion. I will do my best to bear those insufferable troubles in my life if you promise to do the same with my many failings."

Remus just looked at him for a long moment, his eyes first quite round, then very tender. Then he freed his wrists from Severus's grip and pulled him into a kiss so warm and so deep that no words were needed to express his feelings. Severus had not been able to bring the word "love" over his lips, but that was what was most characteristic of Remus, that infinite capacity of love. And being with Remus meant to be loved rather than to be in danger. Severus knew which should have priority over the other and was secretly glad that no other wizard had been able to see that before him.

As Remus broke the kiss, his golden eyes twinkling in the torchlight, he was smiling a genuine smile. "You know that you can be yourself with me, because I don't mind any of your flaws," he said softly, "just like you don't mind mine."

Remus was right of course. They enjoyed having someone to be themselves with, to share everything with. It was relieving and it made it easier for them both to accept themselves as they were. They hadn't yet reached the point of sharing quite everything, though, and Severus wasn't the only one to hide things. Remus would not let Severus see him as a wolf. And maybe it was just that – feeling like a normal man – that made Remus refuse to share that part of himself with Severus.

But Severus was curious now, he wanted to see it. He wanted to be allowed to see it. This wish was so great that he couldn't control his curiosity at the next full moon, pressing his ear against the door to Remus's rooms after having been sent away for the transformation. When he had left the room, the transformation had already been underway. Usually Remus didn't let him stay so long but Severus had meant to distract him to be able to stay. It had not worked, and Remus had had trouble to keep his pain silent until Severus had closed the door behind him. Now, sneaky like a true Slytherin, Severus was listening in on that pain and anguish, screamed and moaned from the still human lips of the werewolf.

He pushed himself off the door before he could hear any wolfish howls and watched the wood vanish into the stone wall. He stood staring at the wall for a few long moments, his stomach churning as the bloodcurdling screams echoed in his head. He felt guilty for having spied like that, on something which he was obviously not supposed to hear. And he felt pained, suffering with the man who was closer to him than anyone. The sound of his hoarse voice breaking at its very top almost made Severus feel the stretching of sinews, the tearing of muscle, the splintering of bone. It was a miracle that Remus could survive month after month of this torture which was breaking his body and shattering his self-control, forcing him to scream to be able to bear the agonising pain.

Deciding not to let Remus know of the fact that he had been eavesdropping, Severus left for the dungeons. He made sure that his best painkilling potion was ready for the morning and standing beside the Invigorating Draught. Most unlike himself, Severus swore that he would respect Remus's wish not to reveal certain things to him, just like the werewolf respected the same in him, and that he would wait patiently until Remus decided to share even those last secrets with him. And Severus would be ready and prepared when he did, ready to be there and give instead of receiving, prepared for whatever chasm Remus needed to be pulled out of or joined in.


	21. Lesson Twenty-One: Seeds of Suspicion

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: Hope you're still there, the story's finally picking up speed.

* * *

 **Lesson Twenty-One: Seeds of Suspicion**

Quite suddenly, Severus's feelings for Remus took a more intimate turn. It was the protruding collarbone that caught his attention. It was not merely the naked skin that attracted his eyes, and it was not just the long scar running up from somewhere underneath the shirt over the werewolf's chest to the crook of his neck. It was the shape of the bone that appealed to him, curving like the werewolf's upper lip, from his shoulder to the deep hollow in the middle, soft and round, so clearly visible under the pale skin.

Severus reached out a hand, transfixed, and ran his fingertips over the exposed skin, feeling the solid bone underneath its soft cover. He felt strangely thrilled by the touch, a surge of unknown pleasure washing over him. He let his index finger sink into the valley below Remus's throat and his fingertips ghosted underneath the collar of the shirt, sliding it aside. Severus paused then, and let his eyes sweep over the curved bone that seemed to form a mild smile, matching the one Remus would give only to him.

Severus's lips had curled into a puzzled smile of their own before he could prevent it, his fingers still resting on the delicate yet firm line that so intrigued him, so unreal in spite or maybe because of the contact of their skin. It was a soft sigh that brought him back to reality and his fingers followed his eyes as they wandered up over Remus's throat to his jaw and his cheekbone, remaining there for a moment before withdrawing.

Remus's golden eyes fluttered open, blinded at first by the bright light flooding in through the windows until Severus moved so that his body blocked the rays on their way to the werewolf's face. The sigh was repeated when the golden eyes found Severus's and the corners of the werewolf's mouth quirked upwards.

"… erus," Remus croaked, his voice failing him at the first syllables, causing him to clear his throat. "Glad you're here."

Severus inclined his head and sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes drifting to Remus's collarbone again, which disappeared under the fabric of the shabby shirt when the werewolf shifted and sat up with a wince. As he drank the two potions Severus had brought with him, his eyes roamed Severus's face and when he had drained the bottles he gave Severus an inquiring look.

"You look flushed. Haven't caught a fever, have you?" he asked and Severus averted his eyes as he noticed how Remus had affected him. Thankfully the werewolf seemed ignorant.

"No," Severus said curtly, trying to calm himself to reduce the flush. With considerable effort he directed a completely unaffected gaze at the werewolf but his hand moved of its own accord and brushed against the marred skin of Remus's neck, flicking his shirt out of the way as his white fingers crawled further down, tracing the many scars like a spider that balanced its way across the strings of a web. Remus leant into the touch and pressed Severus's hand firmly to his neck. When Severus made to withdraw his hand, Remus held him back and leant in for a kiss, his stubble scratching against Severus's clean-shaven cheek.

Remus's hands ran up Severus's back to seize the fabric over his shoulders as he shuffled awkwardly closer, as close as he could manage, spreading his warmth liberally through Severus's body. Severus could feel the werewolf's every rib under his own, their chests rising and falling in the same rhythm. But Remus winced as Severus embraced him, causing him to release him at once. As Severus pulled back, Remus seemed a little rueful at having given away his pain.

"Ah, after the moon I always feel so sore …" he said hoarsely and rubbed his ribcage. Severus considered him, trying to calm his heart, then he got up and straightened his robes.

"I need to prepare my classes," he said, more flustered than he was willing to let on. "If you need anything more, do call me through the floo," he said and left Remus without another glance at him. Though he _was_ tempted. The werewolf's sight, the curve of his neck melting into his collarbones, streaming down to the base of his throat like brooks to a lake, didn't leave his mind all day and all night.

Severus knew something had shifted, if not between them, then at least within him. Remus didn't seem any different from usual but Severus felt different. He had always been attracted to Remus, but up to now what he had received had satisfied him. Now he craved something more. Something that wasn't so readily or casually given as an embrace or a kiss. His curiosity and his desire had deepened to a level he refused to contemplate for now. But that refusal didn't change anything.

Not only when they were alone did Severus watch Remus, did his eyes find nothing more interesting than Remus, least of all a dull essay or a letter from Lucius. He did not even feel angry about this, he simply took pleasure in looking at Remus and appreciating everything about him, from the way he moved, to his looks, and the smiles Remus gave him when he caught him watching. Surely Remus noticed this change in Severus, but he didn't remark on it, probably because he was feeling mischievous keeping silent about it instead of addressing it and relieving the tension like Severus wanted him to.

In the staffroom, it was a day in February, Severus had his eyes focused on Remus's hands, one fiddling with his cravat, the other moving from side to side on the pages of an open book, index finger tracing the lines as Remus's lips moved, reading silently. Severus didn't even notice that they weren't alone in the room until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. They could as well just have been teleported into this room from a deserted place that Severus wanted to return to.

"Why, Remus," said Albus's voice, the only one which could attract Severus's attention for long enough to make him look away from Remus, "the last time I saw such a tender look on Severus's face was when he showed me the Potions book you gave him."

Remus, whose reluctance to tear his eyes away from the pages of his book was amusingly obvious, lifted his head, then slowly raised his eyes first to Albus, then to Severus, who was of course glaring by now. "He showed –"

"I wouldn't call it showing," growled Severus irritably, "you saw it and forced me to take it out of its case."

Albus chuckled, patting Severus's back. Remus was smiling. Mischievously. "He was wearing a tender look?" he asked, and his voice gave away nothing of the mischief in his eyes. "Just now, too?"

"Oh, yes," said Albus and Severus shot him a venomous glare. "Quite a rare occurrence, too, believe me. Would you happen to have given him another present?

Remus was still looking at Severus, cocking his head to one side as he closed his book, focusing his attention on him. "Not lately, no," he said thoughtfully. "Though I have seen him wear that look rather often. Maybe I did give him a present of sorts?" The question was for Severus, who merely scowled.

"Not that the reason matters," said Albus pleasantly, "I am quite glad that you became friends after your rocky start."

"Rocky's not the word I'd use," said Remus as Albus moved away, and he gave Severus that mischievous smile.

"Hopeless more like," muttered Severus.

"If it had been hopeless I wouldn't be subjected to your tender looks now," Remus retaliated, satisfying his mischievous streak, and Severus glared at him. "Our beginning was clumsy, but look where we are now, so much further down the road … and that tenderness only reassures me." He looked as though he had more to say on that topic, but he didn't, and returned to his book instead. It left Severus frustrated, though he couldn't quite pinpoint why.

On the last Thursday before the Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw Quidditch match, Severus returned to his sitting room in the evening, having finished the brewing of the day very late, only to find the werewolf sitting on his sofa with a half-empty bottle of Butterbeer. Remus smiled vaguely when their eyes met and got up, his shabby robes falling around his thin frame like a curtain around a work of art, concealing his graceful body.

"Sorry for letting myself in," he said as Severus tried to focus his thoughts. "Didn't want to disturb you, but I needed to be close to you at the same time."

"Don't worry about it," said Severus, approaching him to receive a hug that was tighter than he had expected. "Has anything happened?"

"Not really," said Remus as he pulled back, running his hands over Severus's chest, a gesture which quickened Severus's heartbeat again. "I had a conversation with Harry about Dementors. He wanted to know about what's under their hood and I told him. I also told him that it would be Sirius Black's fate to find out. Harry is of the questionable opinion that he deserves that fate."

"And I take it you do not agree?" asked Severus incredulously. "You of all people?"

Remus raised his eyebrows at Severus and looked at him as though he saw him clearly for the first time today. As though he had just remembered that Severus had been a Death Eater, that he could be ruthless and merciless. Unlike Remus himself. "I do not believe that anybody should decide for somebody else's soul to be destroyed," he said and his words sounded measured, as though he chose them all with utmost care.

"Shouldn't he suffer something much worse than the redemption of death for the crimes he has committed?" Severus replied and Remus sighed.

"No wizard, no matter how wise or just, should be allowed to decide who is to die, not to speak of losing their soul," he said sternly, his eyes piercing Severus like they had never done before. "Even if you do believe that there are those who deserve such a fate, who would be entitled to make that decision? What good would that do? Personally, I think that we would lose a part of ourselves by destroying another human being, and thus, far from bringing them to justice, we only increase the damage they have done."

"If you imply that I would lose my innocence by doing so, I must disappoint you," said Severus stiffly. "I have killed and destroyed people before, I have already lost everything there was to lose."

"You haven't lost your humanity," replied Remus quietly. "And I beg your pardon, but you've just proved my point."

"Do you mean because of what my past crimes made of me, or because I could have suffered the Dementor's Kiss for them, had Dumbledore not testified in my favour?" asked Severus, narrowing his eyes at Remus, whose face softened.

"Both," he admitted. Then he shook his head and cupped Severus's face with warm hands, leaning in to give him a kiss that was the contrary of destructive. It was forgiving him for his crimes. And claiming that he didn't deserve the Dementor's Kiss, no matter what he had done. And if Severus didn't, who did? "I just don't think that a child should subscribe to such views. He shouldn't have to think about it. He should think about Quidditch like every child his age. Maybe he can, now that Minerva has given him back his _Firebolt_."

"Oh, Gryffindors rejoice, your hero has his noble steed back," growled Severus, scowling. "Time to slay the dragon."

"Well, I could have told you from the start that the broom wasn't jinxed," Remus said almost triumphantly.

"But since we still don't know who sent it, it could very well have been so," Severus pointed out with an annoyed edge to his voice.

"No, I disagree," Remus replied firmly. "Sirius Black is too clever to risk being found by sending a broomstick to Harry which he surely knows would be confiscated and stripped down. No, you mark my words, if he really wants to get at Harry, he will have a plan that actually has a chance of succeeding."

"Let's change the subject, shall we, as we must agree to disagree on that topic and I don't want to argue with you right now." Remus gave him a slightly irritated smile but didn't object. Severus was glad of it. He didn't want to think about Black at all. And Remus's remarks and his playing Black's advocate had made him angry. He wasn't quite sure why. Maybe because he suspected that long ago, when he had still been Remus's best friend, Black might have received what Severus's eyes were searching so eagerly now when they watched Remus. An oddly sickening thought.

"Well, anyway, I think you are right, Harry might just slay the dragon if Slytherin doesn't watch out," smiled Remus mischievously.

"Would you refrain from taking sides?" snarled Severus, brushing Remus off and sitting down in his armchair.

"You are one to talk," said Remus with a laugh.

"I am supposed to take sides," retorted Severus irritably, "I _am_ Head of House!"

Remus looked startled at his own mistake. "Oh, yes, of course," he said with an apologetic smile, "it's so unlikely that it keeps slipping my mind."

Severus didn't want to take offence, but he did. "Excuse me?" he snapped as Remus sat down on the arm of the sofa, facing him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, for one you are quite young," said Remus carefully but he knew that Severus would not let that pass. "And you will forgive me if I say that you aren't exactly the first person I would think of to take up responsibility for hundreds of children, their well-being, their troubles, their futures. Though I suppose that you like your Slytherins. I don't think that Head of House is a position after your own heart."

"You think that a man like yourself would be better suited?" asked Severus, rather because he thought so, too, than to challenge Remus.

"I didn't say that," replied Remus but he was smiling. "But the other Heads all have something that I'm not sure I see in you."

"That being?" asked Severus impatiently.

"They care for their students," said Remus matter-of-factly. "They take pride in their achievements, a bit like parents would. Pomona being a mother, that isn't surprising, but Filius and Minerva also share that quality. In very different ways, but nonetheless. They have a parental streak."

"Like you."

"Well, yes," said Remus slowly, "I suppose so. Being in close touch with your students, enjoying to teach them, is important for being a teacher, but for a Head, I think, it is even more important to be willing and able to take responsibility for them and be there for them when they need you. I have, of course, never seen you deal with your students, but somehow I don't get the feeling that you appreciate the responsibility and that they find a welcoming advisor in you."

From Remus, those words stung. Of course Severus knew very well that there was some truth in them, but he had never neglected his duties, had always taken responsibility in an exemplary manner and understood what it meant to be Head of so many children. Maybe he wasn't parental, but he was conscientious. And since he knew many of the Slytherins' parents, he had an advantage. A gentle hand brushed the curtain of black hair out of his face and Severus turned to look at the werewolf, whose mild eyes were serene and calming. As Remus saw Severus's thoughtful face, he hastened to backtrack.

"That is only my impression, Severus," he said gently, "I'm sure Albus wouldn't have trusted you with the position if he didn't think that you are suited for it. And the Slytherins like you. They always speak very highly of you. I just thought you weren't the type for that kind of position."

"Perhaps you are right," said Severus indifferently. "It was thrust upon me when I was only twenty-one. I believe that I have grown into it. I might not have that parental side to me that children need in an advisor. But I do understand the responsibility and I accept it. I am doing my best."

Remus smiled, rising to approach Severus. "I know you do," he said mildly, leaning down, "that is one of the things I love about you: you always do your best." And Severus felt all the better for the kiss that sealed it.

The Quidditch match on Saturday went disastrous, of course. Not only did Gryffindor win, no, Draco and his brainless friends played Dementor and walked onto the pitch to scare Potter (he would let them clean cauldrons by hand, and make sure to have his students brew especially sticky potions next week). And as if that hadn't been enough annoying and house-humiliating occurrences, Potter conjured some wispy mass of an almost-Patronus which impressed Remus so much that he hurried onto the pitch immediately to congratulate the boy in such a disgustingly fatherly manner that Severus had to look away. Severus was fuming when he swept after Dumbledore to McGonagall, who was screaming at Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Slytherin's soon to be ex-Quidditch team captain Flint, who had lost their house an extraordinary amount of points.

After shooting them all some deathly glares and letting McGonagall rant at him for not being able to control his students, he swept off to his dungeons and was met halfway by a duly modest werewolf, hands in his pockets, though unable to suppress a twitching smile. Not a word was spoken as Severus allowed Remus to accompany him down the narrow staircase and into his rooms.

It was only when he was safely inside Severus's sitting room that Remus dared say something. "So, I do hope you took responsibility, Severus." He was chuckling already and Severus shot him a death glare.

"Do not try my patience, Professor Lupin!" he snapped and Remus laughed even harder.

"Forgive me, my dear," he said, causing Severus to turn away to hide his flustered face. "I'm just happy for Harry. Did you see his Patronus? Wasn't it brilliant?"

"Wispy is the word I'd use," muttered Severus, unwilling to face Remus's pride.

"Come on, don't be so mean, Severus," said Remus and it was clearly audible in his voice that he was still smiling broadly. "Since I must not take sides in the Quidditch, let me at least be proud that I've been able to teach Harry something."

"Why don't you go and be proud of it with Dumbledore, then?" said Severus indignantly. "I'm sure he would be all-too-willing …"

"But I'd rather be with you," said Remus matter-of-factly, and when Severus turned, feeling a little smug, Remus was already making himself at home, shedding his cloak and lighting a fire in the grate.

They sat in silence for some time, very close together on the sofa, and when the room had heated up enough, Remus loosened his cravat and his collar fell open to reveal his slender neck, marred by just two scars, one over his throat, one over his jugular crossing at their very ends. The marks of what had made Remus into the perfect partner for Severus. And Severus wished he could touch that silky skin, run his fingers along the scars and discover just how far down they went. But his hands had been the instrument of so much harm and death to others, how dare he even think about touching the marks of Remus's desperate struggle to prevent harm and death to others? Why would Remus even want that? It was not as though Severus had some inner beauty to compensate for his physical lack thereof.

His wish to touch Remus thus remained unfulfilled and he tried to ignore the cold emptiness of his hands. A thrill ran through his body when Remus's knee touched his, when his left palm was filled with Remus's right hand, warm and reassuring. Severus looked up at him and couldn't help but frown. He wanted to withdraw his hand but his arm wouldn't comply.

"Something wrong?" asked Remus softly.

"It's nothing," muttered Severus, resenting Remus for making him _want_ but not _dare_. For his mischievous teasing. For his lack of initiative. Severus wasn't a Gryffindor, he wasn't daring, he didn't rush into anything without contemplation or encouragement, he needed Remus to encourage him. "Tea?" asked Severus helplessly, and waved his wand to prepare some without waiting for Remus's answer. He felt Remus tense at this diversion but the werewolf didn't remark upon it, simply accepted the cup Severus handed him.

As the silence stretched again, awkwardly this time, Remus rose and approached the window, where there stood a spindly-legged table that had a tabletop made of black and white tiles to play chess on. "Game of chess?" he asked and Severus was sure he wanted to chase the awkwardness away. Severus agreed, because he, too, felt uncomfortable.

Severus followed him and opened a drawer under the tabletop to take out two bags of chess pieces. "But I must warn you, I am a good player."

"I'm not surprised, you are, after all, a good thinker," said Remus with a gracious smile. But Remus's patience was a much better quality in a chess player than Severus's strategic mind.

As the werewolf chose the black chess pieces, there was a noisy scream of protest from them. A werewolf to command the troops? And look at his robes! But Master Snape must be out of his mind! Didn't they always serve him well? What kind of treatment was that? Severus grew livid at their rude calls but Remus just chuckled, prodding the little king in the back to make him walk to his place, albeit screaming furiously. Only when Severus had silenced them with the threat of giving them to Hagrid's boarhound as chewing toys if they didn't stop treating _Master_ Lupin disrespectfully, could they finally start playing (not without a few snide remarks from the white pieces directed at the black ones, very much like Severus's own would have sounded).

"I see your chess pieces have adapted your sharp tongue," smiled Remus and Severus rolled his eyes. "Thank you but I think I know what I am doing, now would you please move on to where I said?" he added, amused, at the little knight that was trying to tell him that he would _strongly_ suggest to send him somewhere else if he didn't want him to be doomed.

And Remus did know what he was doing. Severus found himself checkmated (accompanied by the pathetic wailing of the white king) after long but futile resistance. Remus wasn't smug, simply allowed that Severus must have sorely underestimated him and possibly been distracted by the Quidditch match. Severus dismissed this. He had surprisingly little difficulty admitting this defeat. He let Remus take his hand when he had stuffed the scandalised white pieces back into their bag under the jibes of the black pieces.

When their eyes met over the board, Severus's self-consciousness was back in an instant and he wondered just what Remus saw in him that made his golden eyes so tender. And whether Remus wondered the same thing when he saw the tenderness in Severus's eyes. After a few moments, he rose, averting his eyes and smoothing out his robes as he turned away from the table and the werewolf.

"If you'll excuse me," he said quietly, running the side of his thumb over his forehead, "I have to get a bit of work done."

"Brewing work?" asked Remus and Severus nodded. "Can I stay? I like it when you're brewing. I won't get in the way."

Severus turned to face him in startled surprise. Remus smiled, taking his teacup to sit on the windowsill with it. "Do what you will," Severus said, trying to sound indifferent rather than amazed.

Now and then, Severus glanced through the door, which he had left open, to see whether Remus was really still there, and he was, every time, leaning against the window with his eyes closed. Severus could see Remus's even breathing misting up the glass. The situation was strangely domestic and the feeling of being _home_ was insuppressible. Even more so when Remus called him to dinner, having asked some elves to bring two plates to the sitting room. Dark had fallen and Severus had only just put out the last fire when he sat down to eat. He kissed Remus very tenderly and ran his hand slowly over his spine to the small of his back.

"You going to sit with me now?" asked Remus when they had cleared their plates. And as his warm hand came to rest on Severus's shoulder, there was no refusing his request.

Remus talked to him for a while, holding his hand, but Severus couldn't bring himself to be more responsive than before. After some time, Remus laid his head on Severus's shoulder and as it became heavier Severus knew that he had fallen asleep. For how long he sat in silence with Remus like this he didn't know, time seemed to be nonexistent with the werewolf's breath against his ear.

It must have been well past one in the morning when Remus woke, groaning as he rubbed his eyes. Severus watched him as he let his head fall back, exposing his neck to Severus's eyes. Before he could prevent it, his thoughts had wandered into intimate territory again. He let them wander. His hand moved towards Remus's temple and took a slightly curled lock of golden-grey hair between thumb and index finger, his fingers sliding down the soft strand, his knuckles touching the silky skin, so white against the yellow stains on his own. As he noticed that Remus was looking at him out of the corners of his eyes, unsmiling, Severus made to withdraw his hand, but Remus caught it.

"I liked that," said Remus softly, "don't stop."

And then Severus saw something very unusual and unexpected in Remus's eyes. A flicker of some anxiety, quickly suppressed but unmistakable. A nervous smile followed and was covered up just as easily, and Remus chuckled to himself as Severus narrowed his eyes at him in confusion. "Stop playing chess with me, Remus," Severus whispered as Remus released his hand. "You've already won."

"I'm not playing," Remus replied, his voice calm. "You are the one who's planning his every move. There's no need for that. I want you, no matter how you go about it."

Severus stared at him, starting slightly as Remus's hand caressed his cheek. The werewolf had seen through him, as Severus had known he would. And this was the encouragement Severus needed. The knowledge that Remus wanted him. Foolish werewolf. "You know that you are a hopeless fool," said Severus incredulously, tracing Remus's features with careful fingers.

"Lucky for you," joked Remus good-naturedly as Severus leant in, laying his arm round Remus's waist as he lowered his lips to Remus's neck, touching them to the warm skin, where Remus's heartbeat was throbbing.

Pulling Remus's cravat open and off his neck, Severus brushed his fingers over the scars on Remus's neck. He closed his eyes to the feeling of Remus's skin under his fingers, dragging his lips further up towards Remus's jaw as his fingers sank into the hollow between Remus's collarbones. As he let his hands caress Remus's skin and his lips trail over Remus's jaw, the werewolf moaned quietly, cupping Severus's face with his hands to pull him up for a kiss, wrapping his arms round Severus's shoulders to pull him even closer.

Severus felt Remus's quickened heartbeat under his own and the hot flush in his face. He felt Remus pressing up to him, not permitting their lips to part for longer than he needed to place the next kiss. And with a sudden crystal clear awareness he realised what this could result in. It was not that this possibility hadn't always been present, but it had been hovering out of sight behind a locked door at the back of Severus's mind, inaccessible for months before it had even occurred to him that it was actually a distinct possibility, not just something that was conventionally expected to be a part of any relationship. After all, their relationship was hardly conventional in any respect. He had not only not believed that Remus would want to take that step, he hadn't even thought about it in any concrete way, not for lack of physical attraction to Remus but simply because their togetherness had needed to mature on other levels before such considerations could come into play for him. And really, he did not think himself attractive or desirable, he could not quite fathom why anyone would want him to touch them beyond the superficial handshake, or, in Remus's case, the deepest imaginable kiss.

He himself, though by no means immune to Remus's allure, had up until now not felt any urgent need to go further. In fact he had been quite satisfied with what they shared, and he hadn't been close enough to Remus to think beyond it. Maybe this was owed to the fact that he did not harbour romantic feelings for the werewolf. He liked to touch Remus and he liked to kiss him, but it was only now that he fully appreciated the possibility of going further. Only now did he realise that this was what he had longed for these past weeks. In fact, whenever it had seemed imminent, usually in the evenings when one or the other of them was wondering whether to leave or stay, Severus had always subconsciously drawn a line at the threshold to their respective bedrooms – at least at night – so as not to let the question arise. Only now that he wanted it, now that they had proven to fit together so well, Severus felt more inclined to take such a step, to consummate their relationship without fear of a break-up that would leave him vulnerable again. And these feelings ran away with him and made his heart beat fast like a bat's wings. And it made him wonder if Remus wanted him in the same way, and if yes, if he wanted it now.

Remus's soft moan, as Severus deepened the kiss further, was oddly beautiful, because it was for Severus because of Severus. Running his fingers through Remus's soft hair, Severus felt Remus shifting to lie down, pulling him down with him, and he followed without hesitation. As Remus closed his legs on Severus's hips, Severus lost track of everything but the man underneath him, his head dizzy, his blood rushing in his ears, his lips burning with Remus's kiss and his heart beating wildly. Remus's hands moved to run over Severus's hips. He did want it now. And so did Severus.

"Severus?"

A woman's voice at the door. They froze and their lips broke apart. They looked into each other's eyes, breaths bated.

"Severus, are you there?"

She sounded frantic. They sat up awkwardly, staring at the distant wooden door, miles away from where they were catching their breaths. Severus didn't want that voice here now. He wanted to escape reality again. With Remus.

"Severus!"

Severus looked at Remus, who was quite disheveled. He supposed he had no choice. Something was up and he had to take responsibility as Head of House. Duty first. Blast it all.

"What is it?" he called with an apologetic look at Remus, who waved this away with a smile.

"Open already!"

It was McGonagall, Severus's mind now realised much too late. Then it must be serious. Remus nodded at him, running a hand through his hair as he let his legs slide off the sofa. Getting to his feet, growing more irritable with every inch of distance he brought between Remus and himself, Severus smoothed his hair and robes, and approached the door, determined to get rid of McGonagall as fast as he could. He wrenched open the door, blocking the view into his rooms.

"What do you want in the middle of the night?" he snapped but startled as he noticed the stricken look on McGonagall's face. "What has happened?" he added more gently.

"Sirius Black has happened," she said gravely. "He's broken into Gryffindor Tower with a knife and made it into Potter's dormitory. I'm waking all the teachers to help search the castle for him."

Severus stared blankly at her, hardly trusting his ears. Remus had warned him that Black would have a real, working plan to get into the castle again, and there he was proven right. Said werewolf had got to his feet behind Severus and was listening. And Severus's mind turned into a particular direction of its own accord: Remus was here. In the dungeons. With Severus. He had been here ever since the Quidditch match. Severus was confused.

"But," he said, a little slow on the uptake after the passionate interlude on the sofa, "how did he get in the castle again, and how did he get into Gryffindor Tower?"

"I don't know how he got into the castle," said McGonagall and her lips thinned dangerously, "but that impossible maniac Sir Cadogan let him into Gryffindor Tower because Black had the whole week's passwords on a piece of paper that Longbottom had lost."

"Idiot boy," muttered Severus.

McGonagall heaved an exasperated sigh. "Anyway, we are now searching the castle – with little hope of success, but still. Do you know where Remus is? He didn't open to my calls."

Just when Severus opened his mouth to tell a lie, the door was pulled out of his grip and Remus revealed his presence to McGonagall. "I'm right here, Minerva," he said, his eyes bright and alert. When he noticed McGonagall's confusion, he hastened to add, "I couldn't sleep, Severus gave me a Sleeping Draught and we forgot time talking – now, how's Harry? Nothing's happened to him, I hope."

Severus narrowed his eyes at the werewolf. What was that in his voice – guilt? But he was here. Had that perhaps been just where he had planned to be?

McGonagall recovered from her stunned silence and disrupted Severus's thoughts. "Potter's fine," she said. "No one was hurt. Weasley is a little shaken since he was the one Black threatened with a knife. Black got the wrong bed. At first I thought Weasley had dreamt it all. But Cadogan confirmed the story."

Remus listened silently but Severus was suddenly aware of signs that he didn't want to see. Remus's face showed disbelief, possibly because Black hadn't just done the deed and killed all the boys in the dormitory. Or was that rather disappointment, anger, as Remus shook his head, passing a hand over his face and seeming rather uncharacteristically indignant. Whatever it was, it was suspicious. Remus seemed to be involved in this business.

McGonagall left when they had both assured her that they would join the search. Severus closed the door and watched as Remus hurried to pick up his cloak, ready to actually join the search. Black wasn't there anymore, there was no point in looking for him. What he had managed last time was no more difficult this time, surely. Severus didn't _want_ to search the castle, for once staying here with _Remus_ was more important than the faint chance of hexing Black to shreds. And he grew very irritated when Remus, who obviously didn't share his desire to stay, wanted to floo back to his rooms instead of resuming his seat on the sofa. And Severus just couldn't help suspecting that Remus had done all he had wanted to do in this room and was now eager to leave.

"So, he made it into the castle again," said Severus quietly and Remus stopped at the fireplace. "I wonder how he did it this time."

"The same way that he did it last time, surely?" said Remus, fussing with his cloak, obviously to avoid looking at Severus.

"Oh, but you were here this time," said Severus smoothly and now Remus looked at him, understanding at once what Severus was implying. He looked more than scandalised, he looked deeply injured.

"You are suspecting me?" he whispered, as though it was indecent to say it out loud. "How can you possibly – I've been here with you all day, you never lost sight of me!"

"You might not have had an active part in it this time ... but you _do_ have a part in it." said Severus slowly. He hadn't thought of this in months. Now he felt the old vulnerability that had disappeared when Remus had confessed his love to him. That confession had chased all suspicion away. Why was it back now? Maybe because this alibi was just perfect. And maybe because Remus had now of all nights encouraged Severus to go further than usual, distracting him, when he could have done so at any time in the past weeks, when he had merely teased quite uncharacteristically, as though building up tension and waiting for the right moment.

Remus stared at him, his hands balled into fists and shaking, his face incredulous and as livid as Remus could possibly look. He seemed speechless for a moment. Then he gave a mirthless laugh and turned away, his frowning profile illuminated by the flickering flames in the fireplace. He laid his hands on the mantelpiece, gripping the marble so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"I don't understand why you can't trust me just a little, just enough not to think that I am helping a murderer into the castle," he said, his voice calmer than he must be feeling. "Is that really too much to ask?"

Severus folded his arms. "Trust is earned not given," he said matter-of-factly.

"You say that even now?" asked Remus, facing him again. "How can you kiss me one moment and suspect me of a serious crime the next? Doesn't the time we've spent together merit some trust?"

"The kind of unconditional trust you speak of is for naïve fools," snapped Severus, "and it has nothing to do with our being together."

"Of course it has," said Remus, shaking his head. "Relationships don't work without trust. How can you possibly love me if you don't even trust me enough to believe me that I'm not trying to get Harry killed?"

"I never said that I love you," Severus's lips had formed the words before he knew it. He felt an unpleasant chill when he saw Remus's expression change from exasperation to heartfelt pain. But that pain was soon pushed aside by calm disappointment.

"No, indeed," Remus said, his voice unusually cold, "but as you should have noticed, fortunately for you and me, I speak Snapish." His face softened a little as he looked entreatingly at Severus. "Please, Severus, just this once, I need you to make a move. There isn't just me in this relationship, I'm giving this my all, I cannot go on from here if you don't."

And with that he tossed some Floo Powder into the fire and stepped into the green flames, vanishing in the depths of the burning embers.

Severus stared after him, his unfocused gaze on the flames that had swallowed Remus. He wanted all. All of _him_. But now it felt as if it was just out of reach. Remus wanted trust, but trust was the one thing Severus could not give, was too cautious, too bitter to give. Too often had he been disappointed, too often had it been vital that he trust nobody. He wanted to. But something always seemed to make him back away. This business with Black for instance. The fear of making himself vulnerable. Of letting somebody get too close. Because of Memories. And Life.

Severus turned away from the fireplace and buried his face in his hands. It was his move and the only thing he was sure of was how to checkmate and put an end to it all. It seemed as if the heat of the fire in his back didn't even penetrate him, as if it were being repelled by his black robes and his hard skin. As if the supply of Remus's warmth that he had stored inside of himself had run dry forever.


	22. Lesson Twenty-Two: Panacea

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: A Guest (thanks very much!) alerted me to the fact that I uploaded the wrong chapter, sorry about that! So, here is the new chapter :)

This is a massive chapter, I know, but I just couldn't break it into pieces, it all belongs together. But ... you might be in for a treat if you read to the very end.

* * *

 **Lesson Twenty-Two: Panacea**

Severus wished he hadn't gone searching for Black, after all. Trusting Remus was only made even more difficult by the fact that the werewolf had been in the third-floor corridor again when Severus had found him, looking rather dejected as he leaned against the one-eyed witch. Truth be told, Severus had not gone to search for Black, but to see whether Remus would be searching for him or whether he knew exactly where to look for him. The result hadn't been very trust-inspiring. As much as Severus tried not to question Remus's loyalty, he could not help being suspicious and probing the statue when the werewolf had left. Even though he could not find anything, it didn't erase his suspicions.

This time, Severus hadn't shown himself to the werewolf. In fact, he doubted whether he could ever face him again. What could he say, really? Nothing had changed. And facing Remus, now that their relationship seemed at an end, was just as awkward and uncomfortable as he'd thought it would be. And he felt vulnerable again. Remus was angry. The things he now knew would help him take exquisite revenge if he wanted to take it. And Severus couldn't look Remus in the eye. He felt rather awful for having been left like this. Just when he had thought that their relationship could deepen. Why hadn't he just kept his mouth shut? He had dealt Remus two severe injuries that night, and he could make up for neither of them. He had meant them. But he had not meant to hurt. He should not have spoken without thinking. Some truths were better kept to oneself.

By Wednesday, Severus was experiencing feelings of longing and withdrawal that he tried hard to deny. He even left his lonely dungeon to visit the Three Broomsticks, so as to fill the silence with the noisy chatter of the crowded pub. He did not want to admit to himself that he missed Remus. But months of daily conversations and evenings spent in each other's company had left their traces, and he craved Remus's voice and also his touch. Remus had made no move since Saturday, had neither talked nor stayed in the same room with Severus. He looked miserable underneath his artificial cheerfulness, but Severus had no hopes of their problems being solved by him this time. Whatever they had been until Saturday, they weren't it any longer.

Turning his glass of Firewhisky round and round on the tabletop, Severus stared at his copy of the _Daily_ _Prophet_ without seeing it, his ears droning with his own thoughts, rather than with the chattering going on around him. He sat alone in the darkest corner of the pub, wondering how it would have been if he had been the one to take Remus here all those months ago. Why hadn't he taken him? For fear that it could be misinterpreted? But Remus had already interpreted a romantic intention into Severus's actions. He believed that Severus loved him. Wouldn't it be better to tell him that it wasn't so? It would have been cruel to confirm that interpretation, would it not? Telling Remus what he wanted to hear would have devalued Remus's own feelings. But if Remus really loved Severus so dearly, why didn't he talk to him anymore? Why wouldn't he fight for that love?

How arrogant to think something like that. Remus was hurt, much more so because he loved Severus. He was right to at least demand an apology. But he must know that Severus wouldn't give him one. And again Severus's thoughts drifted off to how it might have been to go out with Remus. Not as colleagues but as something more. Never had anyone wanted to spend an evening with him like that. Had he been ungrateful? Had he not cherished Remus enough? He knew the answer. And maybe being alone was what he was destined for. He swallowed hard and tried to ignore the churning of his stomach. Secretly, he had hoped that he'd never be alone again. Remus had as good as promised it. And there Severus was, an utter fool.

Out of nowhere, a hand on Severus's shoulder made him start and look up into the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore. Severus's heart sank. It had quickened its beat in expectation of Remus. Severus lowered his eyes again, setting his glass down on Black's photograph in the paper. He didn't want to be alone. But the only company he wanted at the moment was Remus.

"Severus, my boy," said Albus, sitting down unasked opposite Severus, "so alone today?"

Severus cringed. "Who would be here with me?" he asked and regretted it at once, for Albus knew that Remus would be.

"You seemed to be quite comfortable in Remus's presence lately," said Albus casually, folding his hands on the table. "You aren't suspecting him again of helping Black, are you?" he added, nodding at the newspaper under Severus's glass.

Severus huffed. "As you will know, Headmaster, Lupin was in my rooms at the time of the break-in," he said reluctantly.

"I take it he was with you the whole day?" asked Albus and nodded as Severus shot him a venomous look. "And yet he is not here with you now and you have not been seen together since the break-in."

"Headmaster, why don't we stop playing this game," snarled Severus angrily. "Yes, I believe Lupin knows something about Black's ability to appear and disappear again at will, even if he did not play an active part in it this time."

"Surely you did not tell him so?" asked Albus, frowning.

"Of course I did," snapped Severus and Albus actually pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"Oh, my dear boy," he said, sounding incredulous.

"What do you think why he isn't here with me …" muttered Severus, mortified at Albus's reaction.

"You never can seem to hold your tongue when something is vexing you, can you?" said Albus smiling and sounded almost sympathetic, almost fond.

"He is keeping something from me, even though he pretends that I am –" Severus stopped as he remembered whom he was talking to. Albus was smiling in an insolently expectant way, his eyes twinkling in that annoyingly shrewd way that told Severus that he had more than just a vague idea of what Remus pretended Severus was to him. "That I am his _friend_ ," finished Severus carefully and Albus couldn't suppress a small chuckle that set Severus's teeth on edge.

"I am glad that you are _friends_ ," said Albus and he grasped Severus's hand on the table. "And so should you be. He will have his reasons for keeping certain things from you. We all have our little secrets. I trust him to do the right thing in the end. If I can trust him, so can you. You know what you mean to him. I am sure that, whatever he does, that is at the bottom of it."

"You are telling me to apologise to him," said Severus defiantly, "and to trust him, even though he doesn't deserve it."

"No, Severus, no," said Albus, withdrawing his hand as he got to his feet. He sounded exasperated again and Severus felt like an especially slow child. "I am telling you that he deserves your trust. Even if he hasn't earned it. That is a lesson you must learn. You must learn to trust again, Severus, as hard as it is. And yes, I do think he deserves an apology."

With another pat on Severus's shoulder, Albus left him to himself again. Severus looked after him, feeling both unfairly treated and somewhat exposed. Had Remus talked to Albus or had the Headmaster some sort of spying device in the teachers' rooms? But what did it matter? Remus would have nothing more to tell Albus. There was a silence between them that seemed insurmountable. After all, he would surely not wait forever until Severus changed. Severus almost hoped to fall into a vanishing step, so he would be forced to talk to Remus. How would they be able to bear the rest of the school year? And there was the churning again. The rest of the school year … he had hoped to spend it with Remus by his side. He closed his eyes. He didn't want to believe that it would not come to that.

And then there was a warm hand on his shoulder again and he rolled his eyes, willing Albus to just leave him alone with his misery. "You have made yourself clear enough," he snapped, "I don't need another lecture." But when he turned his head to glare at Albus, he found Remus looking down at him with raised eyebrows, slowly withdrawing his hand.

"Forgive me," the werewolf said mildly, "but I'm not here to lecture you."

"I thought you were somebody else," said Severus quickly, turning towards Remus. He couldn't believe that they were actually talking to each other. It was quite unreal.

"Albus?" asked Remus with the hint of a smile and Severus jerked his head in irritation. "But I am welcome?" He indicated the chair opposite Severus, but as Severus nodded slowly he sat down on the bench beside Severus. Severus gave him a look but Remus just smiled. "Don't worry, Severus, we are just two colleagues meeting for a drink. Nobody will think that we're on a date."

When Severus just scowled, Remus chuckled huskily, sending Severus's spine tingling. And he went even further, touching Severus's thigh under the table and making him jump violently. The husky chuckle again. But Remus couldn't fool Severus. There was something heavy in his gaze, something melancholy in his touch. And indeed the chuckle died from his lips, and when the hand on Severus's leg found Severus's hand instead, he finally said what was on his mind.

"It wasn't what you said that hurt me, you know," he said softly, "it was the fact that you meant it."

"That hasn't changed," said Severus and felt Remus's hand twitch in his. "You know that, and yet you are here."

Remus shook his head, smiling. "You just don't understand, do you?" he asked, but he sounded neither exasperated nor angry. He sounded amused. "I love you. You are the one for me. I couldn't forgive myself if I gave up on you because of something like this. I am patient. I can wait until you, too, realise that this is worth taking a leap of faith for. I'm not going to give you up."

Severus stared at him. He still loved him, then, so much so that he just overlooked the deep injury Severus had dealt him. And moreover, he told Severus so, quite openly, without fear of the power it gave Severus over him. He trusted Severus not to use it. Was that the trust he demanded of Severus? He must know that he'd never receive it.

"Why?" asked Severus quietly, feeling the warmth of Remus's hand and trying to absorb it.

"Don't always ask why," chuckled Remus. "Maybe it would be wiser to let go of you. But now that I have you, I just can't. Don't you understand what you are to me?"

Severus didn't reply. He took a gulp of his whisky, avoiding Remus's eyes. Why should he look a gift wolf in the mouth? Remus didn't want him to change. He offered to just go back to normal. And Severus was only too inclined to agree. He _had_ missed Remus those past days. Then he knew how he could make sure that he was not to blame if Remus ceased to be happy with him.

"Very well, but I have to take responsibility," he said seriously. "I need to know that my partner is aware of what it means to be together with me." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Remus smiling.

"I do understand what it means," he assured him, squeezing his hand. And Severus did feel as though this was a secret date.

When they walked back to the castle together, Remus offered Severus a chocolate bar to eat while passing the Dementors. And he walked so close beside him that he could hold Severus's hand in the concealment of their robes. Severus could hardly believe that he had got out of what he had thought to be a major crisis so easily. Every time he proved to be unworthy of Remus's love, the werewolf just seemed to accept it and move on. After all, Severus's defiant "I never said that I love you" had been true, but it had implied much more than just the absence of a confession. He could just as well have said "I don't love you", it would have had the same effect. Even if Remus claimed to care little about Severus's words, what Severus had said had affected him. And it might just have irrevocably changed something between them. Time would tell.

But Severus thought he already sensed a change in Remus as the werewolf invited him to his rooms on Saturday. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but when he arrived in Remus's sitting room he sensed the hint of an uncertainty, an anxiety in Remus that he didn't know. But was it any wonder? Mistrust _and_ harsh words. Severus hadn't behaved in a very chivalrous manner. Of course Remus would doubt their connection. Carrying his heart on his sleeve was not one of the things Severus was good at. Nor did he find it sensible. Remus on the other hand … Severus could have destroyed him three times over already if he had wanted to. Of course he wouldn't. He felt too strongly for Remus. But if he couldn't show it, how could he repair his relationship with Remus? How could they return how they had felt before the break-in, indeed just before McGonagall had disturbed them? It seemed so far away now. Almost unimaginable again.

Now he was standing in front of Remus's bookcase, looking at the spine of _Wandering with Werewolves_ , trying to ignore the piercing eyes that made his neck tingle. They had not touched yet. In fact they hadn't touched since Remus had let go of his hand on Wednesday, parting with him in the Entrance Hall. They had not kissed in a whole week now and it bothered Severus. Trying to vent his frustration, he pulled _Wandering with Werewolves_ out of the bookcase and thrust it at Remus, who was sitting on the sofa. Remus gave him a questioning look as he turned the book round to reveal Lockhart's blasted face, flashing them an annoying smile.

"What is that?" growled Severus, pointing at the book in disgust.

"Why, I should think that you know better than anyone _what_ this is," said Remus, sounding amused. "This is Gilderoy Lockhart." He took a sip of his hot chocolate as Severus glowered at him.

"What is _he_ doing in _your_ bookshelf?" Severus asked with a reproachful expression. "I thought you had taste … or at least common sense. Obviously I was mistaken."

"Well, it's not as though you'd found the real man in my bed," replied Remus nonchalantly and Severus gave him a scandalised look that made Remus laugh. That man … the things he said, completely unabashed … He would be Severus's early death. "It is not what it looks like!" cried Remus mockingly, throwing up his arms. "The little Welsh bookshop I frequent is owned by a friend of my father's. He thought it might interest me, so he gave it to me for free. And foolish as I was, I couldn't resist the allure of a new book and leafed through it." He buried his face in his hands in mock shame and Severus almost smirked. "Needless to say that that book was a huge disappointment. I should have kept my hands off it."

"And why didn't you throw it away when you discovered that it wasn't the right book for you?" asked Severus silkily, joining in on the metaphor. "Couldn't you let go?"

"Oh, I forgot all about it," said Remus, setting the book down on the coffee table, "when a new book came into my life. The one book for me."

"Which was?" asked Severus, curious where Remus was going with this.

" _Memoirs of a Potions master_ ," said Remus with a faint smile, "by Severus Snape."

Severus snorted and looked out of the window, feeling embarrassed. "Silly werewolf," he remarked drily, and before he knew it, Remus was embracing him, kissing his cheek. It was unexpected bliss.

"You need not tell me what you feel, Severus," Remus said softly, his lips moving against Severus's ear, "I know it without hearing you say the words." And though Severus was sure that Remus didn't know, he felt a lead weight coming off his shoulders. He needn't worry about that anymore, at least. Remus released him and smiled as he walked to the window. But usually Remus would not have moved away again. Severus wanted him close.

"Maybe you would like a glass of wine," suggested Severus, trying to create the right atmosphere for them to find their way back into their togetherness. "I can fetch a bottle from my quarters."

Remus looked round at him with a searching look before he nodded. "That would be very nice," he said, sounding careful again.

Severus took the stairs instead of the floo to buy some time to think about his strategy. But he had hardly even started mapping out his moves, when he remembered that Remus had told him not to play games. This wasn't chess, this was a real problem. Before he had time to tackle it as a real problem, though, he ran into Potter and Longbottom in the third-floor corridor. Beside the one-eyed witch. Looking very guilty. They were the only third-years that weren't allowed to go to Hogsmeade today, which Severus thought was just as well. As he asked why they were loitering about here of all places, they didn't give him a satisfactory answer, but all of the classrooms were locked and else there was nothing in the corridor apart from the statue that looked conspicuous. So, perhaps it was the statue. When he had sent the boys back to their common room, he inspected the statue carefully but could find nothing out of the ordinary, so he continued to his rooms to fetch the wine for Remus and soon the one-eyed witch had left his mind.

Remus only gave Severus a half-heartedly scolding look for tossing the Lockhart book into the fire upon his return. Severus poured them a glass of wine each and leant back, extending an arm to put it on the back of the sofa behind Remus and the werewolf accepted the invitation readily, shuffling close to Severus and resting his head on Severus's shoulder. Severus kept silent, indulging in the warm tingling sensation where Remus's breath rippled over his neck. They just enjoyed the quiet time together without any need for conversation and Severus felt himself sinking into some sort of waking sleep, floating on the river of Remus's warmth.

"I do love you quite a lot, you know," sighed Remus finally, declining a second glass of wine. Severus averted his eyes, setting down the bottle. "Maybe just a little more than is good for me."

"I see you finally think reasonably," muttered Severus, making Remus chuckle into his neck.

"Oh, but that is the best kind of love," Remus said in a low voice, "the one that almost kills you."

Severus waited for Remus to add a positive characteristic of the love he felt for Severus, to compensate for the near fatal quality, but Remus wasn't forthcoming, so Severus cleared his throat and tried not to seem completely offended. "That … doesn't sound very pleasant."

Remus chuckled, looking up at Severus's face, which must be wearing a rather dark expression. "Oh, but it is," said Remus and he did sound convincing. Then he was suddenly frowning, his smile slipping from his face. And Severus realised that he had just confessed that he did not know this best kind of love. "It is the most intense kind," Remus continued, looking into the fireplace. And Remus was unaware that this made Severus only surer of the fact that it wasn't for him to feel it. Love had never served him well, he knew love that made one wish for one's own death, a love that changed one's Patronus. He didn't want it, let alone something even stronger. It was too dangerous, too painful, too destructive. And again he felt pity for Remus, who had fallen prey to it. But it also flattered him that Remus felt it for him.

"But it is painful," said Severus quietly, as Remus shuffled still closer to him, "why would that be good?"

"It is a sweet pain," was Remus's simple answer and it didn't do anything to solve the mystery.

When it was well past noon, Severus decided to return to his office to check if any of his students had got in trouble while in Hogsmeade. Inviting Remus to visit his rooms after dinner, Severus wondered if he had only broadened the gap between them today. Remus had gone back to looking melancholy as he held out his jar of Floo Powder to Severus, and for the first time, Severus had the feeling that they were both feeling alone in each other's company. Somehow Severus couldn't help but dread that they were at a crossroads and that it had not yet been decided which way they would go from here. And the day had started out so well.

But he had no time to ponder this. When he stepped out of the fireplace in his office, a wild-eyed Draco Malfoy, spattered with mud, sprang up from the chair in front of the desk and began telling Severus in a frantic voice that while talking to Ron Weasley near the Shrieking Shack he had seen Potter's head floating in mid-air. Had it been about anybody but Potter, Severus would have believed Draco to be telling him some cock-and-bull story, but as it was Potter's head, Severus knew at once that it was true. If there was anyone who possessed the cheek and the potential to let their head appear in Hogsmeade when their body was supposed to be in the castle, it was Potter. Even more so because Severus knew that Potter possessed a certain Invisibility Cloak that could smuggle his disobedient body out of the castle. How, Severus wasn't sure, what with the Dementors guarding the place, but he was sure that it had happened.

Sending Draco on his way and assuring him that he would take care of Potter, Severus set off to the third-floor corridor. That place had something to do with these strange appearances and disappearances of people who shouldn't be able to appear or disappear so easily. And indeed, when Severus arrived in the corridor, there he was, Potter, standing beside the one-eyed witch once more, looking as if he'd run a mile from the scene of a murder. Severus came to a halt in front of him, feeling very triumphant indeed, and ordered the boy to follow him to his office. This time he would not get away unscathed. This time Severus had evidence against him that was irrefutable. And he was so very close to uncovering the truth about what connected Remus, Black, and this statue in the third-floor corridor. But in his office, Severus couldn't get anything out of Potter but his usual cheeky retorts which resulted in a pointless quarrel. Well, if words led nowhere …

"Turn out your pockets, Potter!" Severus spat, losing his patience, but the boy didn't move. "Turn out your pockets, or we go straight to the Headmaster! Pull them out, Potter!"

Finally the boy complied. Out of his pockets he pulled a bit of old parchment and a bag from Zonko's joke shop. Severus picked up the latter. Potter explained that it was something Weasley had brought him weeks ago. Now that was very credible, wasn't it? Then Severus asked about the parchment and picked it up.

"Spare bit of parchment," said Potter shrugging and Severus turned it over. Very suspicious.

"Surely you don't need such a very _old_ piece of parchment? Why don't I just – throw this away?" Severus said and turned to the fireplace, but the boy stopped him. Potter was as transparent as Veritaserum. Taking out his wand, Severus tried to make the parchment reveal what it was hiding. His third attempt worked. But what was revealed was not what he had hoped for. Indeed, if he had known that this was what he would find, he would rather not have tried. Even if he had not known the names of the people whose handwriting now appeared on the parchment in magical ink, he would have recognised the first untidy hand. He knew it well.

" _Mr Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business_."

" _Mr Prongs agrees with Mr Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git_."

" _Mr Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a Professor_."

" _Mr Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball_."

Severus felt a calm that was only the herald of a violent storm. "So …" said he softly. "We'll see about this."

And the best way to do so was to ask Mr Moony what he had to say about this, the only "Marauder" available. Severus's anger at Potter was pushed into the background by his anger about the insult written by the man who had just declared to love him with unrivaled intensity. He was used to the insolent remarks of the other three, they did not matter. But to be insulted by the one person who had never, not even at school, insulted him in this way, angered him so much it almost made him tremble. Or was it anger? Severus didn't want to admit that pain and dismay were really at the bottom of it. Only Remus could get to him like this. So he took a handful of Floo Powder from the jar on his mantelpiece and tossed it into the fire, keen to see how Remus would explain this and just how Potter had gained possession of it.

"Lupin!" he called into the fire, letting Remus know of his indignation. "I want a word!"

A moment later, Remus's form emerged in the flames and the werewolf stepped out of the fireplace, brushing ashes off his robes. "You called, Severus?" he said mildly, surely wondering why Severus would be angry with him after having left him in a perfectly agreeable mood.

"I certainly did," said Severus. "I have just asked Potter to empty his pockets. He was carrying this." He pointed at the parchment and was rather incensed when he saw Remus's expression close as if he had let a curtain fall behind his eyes. He had locked his mind to deny Severus access. How dare he? Did he still not trust Severus to respect him enough to stay out of his mind? But after all, Severus didn't trust Remus, either. Remus obviously doubted Severus now. And the gap between them was growing ever bigger.

"Well?" Severus said and when Remus didn't answer and Severus saw that he was most probably making up an excuse, he repeated himself, " _Well_?"

Severus knew of Remus's ability to invent perfect excuses for even the most hair-raising things even when under pressure, and he didn't want to give him the time to do so now. His charming smile wouldn't work on Severus and nor would a lie, for Severus knew that Mr Moony was Remus, and that this parchment had been created by him. Remus and his friends had been famous for all kinds of pranks and silly magic at school. Severus tried not to think that this parchment held the secret of how to get in and out of the castle undetected, but Remus's reaction to it and Potter's appearance in Hogsmeade were just too suspicious.

"This parchment is plainly full of Dark Magic," he continued to try and provoke a reaction. "This is supposed to be your area of expertise, Lupin. Where do you imagine Potter got such a thing?"

Finally Remus was ready to reply, but not without an obviously silencing glance at Potter. "Full of Dark Magic?" he said almost lightly. "Do you really think so, Severus? It looks to me as though it is merely a piece of parchment that insults anybody who tries to read it. Childish, but surely not dangerous? I imagine Harry got it from a joke-shop –"

Severus couldn't believe that this was the best Remus could offer. The werewolf knew full well that Severus couldn't be fooled like this. But true to the reputation he had had at school for being able to tell a blunt lie to a teacher without blinking, Remus looked back at Severus without the slightest hint of guilt in his eyes. He stuck up for Potter instead of siding with Severus like he should. He lied brazenly to Severus, with that false smile and carefree attitude that he used to defy all of his opponents, acting as a shield to protect Potter.

"Indeed?" Severus said, making an effort to keep his voice level. "You think a joke-shop could supply him with such a thing? You don't think it more likely that he got it _directly from the manufacturers_?"

The look of confusion on Potter's face was only rivaled by the surprise on Remus's. They both seemed genuine, but while Severus realised that Potter did not know who the manufacturers were, he also knew that Remus's surprise could mean either that he hadn't given Potter the parchment and wondered why Severus suggested it, or that he had given him the parchment and wondered how Severus knew. It was all the same, Remus's behaviour was simply disgraceful. Anger, disappointment, mistrust, Severus felt it all now. And this time he had every reason to feel it. For the first time in months it was terribly obvious that this man had once been part of the group that had made Severus's school life hell. And that he could make it hell again with only a snap of his fingers. Maybe it had never been so obvious before.

"You mean, from Mr Wormtail or one of these people?" Mr Moony said, turning to Potter. "Harry, do you know any of these men?" By saying "no" the boy told a lie without even being aware of it. "You see, Severus?" the werewolf said, turning back to him, and Severus saw it all right. "It looks like a Zonko product to me –"

He was violently interrupted by Ron Weasley, bursting through the door, completely out of breath, claiming that he had given Potter the items he had carried. Was there anything that stated more clearly that they were all lying? But before Severus could say anything more, Remus seized his chance to save both boys from Severus's wrath, taking the parchment with him as he left the office with them. But Severus was not done with him yet.

He flooed to Remus's sitting room and started pacing in front of the fireplace, between the bookcase and the cages of the creatures Remus still kept like pets in his rooms. They eyed him curiously. He didn't need to wait long. Soon the door to the office opened and Remus entered, looking rather angry himself. When he noticed Severus's presence, his expression softened and he closed the door behind him, running a hand through his greying hair.

"Severus," he said quietly, "about the parchment –"

"Save your breath," snapped Severus. "I'm not interested in another lie."

Remus gave him a startled look, as though he hadn't expected this reaction at all. "I understand that you are irritated, but what have I done –"

"Apart from jumping to the boy's aid when you should have supported me?" retorted Severus and Remus raised his eyebrows.

"Only because we are together doesn't mean that I will support you when I don't agree with you," he said calmly. "Especially when you are on yet another crusade to get James Potter's son expelled."

"How dare you?" snarled Severus, balling his hands into fists. "Potter was seen in Hogsmeade where he has absolutely no business being and I was collecting evidence, so don't accuse me of merely serving my revenge here!"

"I don't recall you telling me that when you summoned me to your office as though I was a witness in court," said Remus, still infuriatingly calm and unaffected. "And I don't know what that's got to do with me. Which tells me that that isn't the reason for your anger. Believe me, I took the parchment from Harry and gave him a thorough telling off, I did not, as you suspected, give it to him. Filch confiscated it in our final year at Hogwarts, Harry must have found it somewhere, if that even matters. And now that we have cleared away everything that could get in the way of what really matters, please tell me what I have done to you."

His words were punctuated by a screech from the Kappa in his tank. Severus hesitated for as long as his anger would allow. But he couldn't hold back from telling Remus what he had done. "All those years, at school, you were the only one who never bullied me," he pressed between clenched teeth. "And when you arrived here you even told me that I should know better than to do it to you. And here you are, insulting me in the most pathetic way."

Remus raised his hands in scandalised defence. "I never insulted you, Severus, what are you saying?"

"The parchment!"

"You cannot possibly hold against me what I wrote as a sixteen-year-old," said Remus in obvious exasperation, "we've talked about this. I'm a different person now. That parchment insulted you, but it wasn't me. I would never say anything like that to you."

"That doesn't prevent you from thinking it," replied Severus angrily. "You never said it at school, either!"

Remus shook his head at him. "Does this mean you worry about what I think of your looks? Do you actually believe that I care about what you look like? Did I ever make you believe that I thought you unattractive?" he asked and his voice ceased to be calm. Then he gave an incredulous laugh. "I can't believe that we are even having this conversation."

"Fine, then I'll end it for you," snapped Severus and stepped through the fireplace, ignoring Remus's calls.

But the werewolf followed him, seizing Severus's shoulder to stop him as he stepped out of the flames after Severus in a cloud of ashes. "Don't just walk away from me, Severus!" he said rather loudly, shaking soot out of his hair. "How can we solve this if you don't listen?"

"Why would I listen?" retorted Severus, wrenching his shoulder out of Remus's grip. "You didn't care about me! All you cared about was Potter. Why would I listen to someone who insults and patronises me?"

"I did neither of those things," said Remus, sounding agitated. "That parchment would have insulted Albus Dumbledore himself if he had tried to read it, and even if you were right and I did write those words myself twenty years ago, why would it matter today? I am not that boy anymore! I _do_ care, I understand that you are hurt, but if you'd try to calm down and see sense, you'd agree with me that there's no reason for this argument."

"Why would the eyes of a boy see something different than the eyes of a grown man?" asked Severus quietly and the words left a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. He felt unbearably self-conscious underneath his anger about all else. "A handsome man like you telling me that looks don't matter – I call that patronising. To you I'm just a last resort and if you had a choice, it would not fall on me."

Remus seemed struck speechless. Then his expression changed to a cold anger that seeped into his voice as he spoke. "How dare you?" he asked, looking Severus straight in the eye. "How _dare_ you question my feelings for you? How dare you imply I don't cherish you as you are? How superficial do you think I am that I'd care that you wouldn't win _Witch Weekly_ 's Most Charming Smile Award? I love you, and your looks don't bloody matter to me! If you choose to believe that I don't find you attractive, suit yourself, but don't accuse me of lacking devotion." He stopped there and Severus thought he would leave it at that, when the werewolf suddenly seemed to make up his mind, wringing his hands in an unusually uncontrolled display of emotion, and added in an angry growl, "Oh, I could _strangle_ you right now!"

"Is that the sweet pain you were talking about?" asked Severus, trying to mock him, but Remus just shot him a dangerous look that made him succumb to the shame that had been creeping up on him ever since Remus had drawn breath. But he didn't want to feel that way. He didn't want to feel what he had felt when reading Mr Moony's remark on the parchment. So he turned his attention to anger, that emotion he was familiar with and he could handle it. "You knew why Potter was in my office the moment you laid eyes on the Zonko's bag and the parchment side by side."

"And how would you have arrived at that conclusion?" asked Remus, his raw emotion still in his voice, preventing him from evading this argument.

"I'll tell you how," said Severus, feeling triumphant for having cornered Remus, "Potter somehow made it out of the castle and back inside without passing the Dementors, as did Black, both times. The last and first place Potter was seen in the castle was the same place where you were looking for Black after each of his break-ins – the one-eyed witch in the third-floor corridor. I strongly suspect that that parchment he was carrying told you that he had gone to Hogsmeade because it carries the secret of how to do so. I'm sure that you know something about it and you are just as guilty as Black if you don't come out with it already!"

"Severus I have told you before and I am telling you again," said Remus, withdrawing into himself again, his voice void of emotion – an excellent Occlumens, "I have nothing to do with Sirius's break-ins. And I entreat you not to ask me about this again. You will just have to trust me on this."

"How can I believe you if you cannot even be sincere with me about something like this?" hissed Severus, frustrated with Remus's behaviour. He expected too much. Hadn't he told Severus that he was his confidant? Why then wouldn't he confide? Why if not because he had lied? "How do I know that you are telling the truth?"

"You _do_ know," said Remus quietly, "you know that my loyalty lies with you. The things I do not tell you would change nothing between us, they concern me only and I cannot reveal them just now. I am not helping Sirius in any way, I only helped Harry today because I thought that your anger was directed at me and I didn't want him to get in the crossfire. You'll know that I am telling you the truth about what I feel for you if you just listen. Or if words don't suffice, then just look at the past months. I know I have hurt you today. If you cannot trust me, at least forgive me. If you could just find that in yourself, we could put all this behind us and forget it."

Severus didn't know what to say anymore, he was on the verge of despair and it was all Remus's fault, and he had never felt so utterly helpless, staggering under the weight of the upheaval of emotions in his body. And Remus knew. He was getting to him and he knew that he was Severus's soft spot. Maybe that was the worst part. Severus had grown so vulnerable over the past months without even being aware of it, and he had been utterly surprised by his own extreme emotions. But he had never wanted to feel like that again. That was why he wasn't this close to anyone. And maybe this was when he had to admit that there was only one choice for him at this crossroads.

"I can't," Severus said in resignation. He wondered how Remus could even bear this. Standing there, hearing that answer. He wondered if that pain was really sweet. Maybe it was better than the pain Severus felt. It was unimaginable that a week ago he had believed that they could go a step further. Now he felt like retreating. He couldn't think of anything but the fear of those dreaded emotions. He should have known better than to enter into this relationship in the first place.

Remus's brows knitted and he gave Severus a lingering, sad look. "One day there will be too many things that you cannot forgive, so many that they will become your new walls and lock me out again."

Severus looked at him and saw the pain, and he felt it, too. And he knew that the werewolf was right. But was their relationship worth such pain? Did he want to hurt Remus even further? And himself? How much more could he endure? What had he cherished in it that he was willing to pay so dearly for? The conversations? The understanding? The warmth? Was it not to be alone anymore? To be with someone who knew how true loneliness felt, how it was to be an outcast, to have no one to be himself with? Or yet the feeling of being loved, of mattering to someone, not because of his potion-making or his magical prowess or his skill as a spy, but because of who he was? Maybe it was because of the way Remus looked at him. Like right now. With that caress in his golden eyes. Yes, that must be it.

"You have never earned my trust, Severus, but I trust you nonetheless," said Remus softly. "I trust you not to hurt me intentionally. I trust you with the biggest secret I have. I'd drink any potion you give me without question. Over the past months we have grown so close, and my love for you has only deepened. But all the while you seem to be slipping through my fingers and it terrifies me. You seem to be fighting against your feelings for me and I am afraid of losing you."

Severus's eyes widened for a moment and his lips moved of their own volition. "So am I."

Remus's eyes saddened. "But are you more afraid of losing me, or of facing the possible consequences of being together with me?"

That was exactly the question that needed to be asked. Severus looked into Remus's eyes and found that the werewolf, too, was deeply affected by everything that had happened, only he had the courage to take it all and more. He was strong, resilient, confident, _because_ he admitted to weaknesses, because life had steeled him. But the steel hid a core of glass. Severus wasn't the only one who was vulnerable. They shared so much that was too precious to lose. Remus knew this. And despite the danger of being shattered, he held on to it. Severus lowered his eyes. He didn't know if he could do the same. Remus's courage was fueled by love. What could Severus's be fueled by?

"I want to say that I can go on from here," said Severus quietly. Maybe he didn't trust and maybe he didn't love, but he knew that he cared and that he couldn't be without Remus, that he couldn't bear the loss of him. He had made himself dependent. "But I don't know if I can."

"Look at us," sighed Remus wearily, "you are so afraid of feeling anything, of being hurt, that you cannot trust anybody or let anybody get close to you. And me, I have been so alone all my life, I have lost everybody I have ever loved and now I am so afraid that the same will happen with you that I can barely breathe." And indeed the breath he drew sounded shallow and shaky. "I wish we could let bygones be bygones and look at each other through dauntless, undimmed eyes. I wish we could shake off what's tying us down – the full moon and the Mark on your arm …"

Severus averted his eyes as his hand sprang to his left forearm, gripping it tightly. Remus stepped forward to gently pull Severus's hand from his forearm and take it into both of his warm ones. "Severus, all I know right now is that I love you as you are, and I want that to be enough to make things work between us." And he gently gripped Severus's forearm where the Dark Mark was hidden under his sleeve. Then he looked into Severus's eyes and said. "Do you think it could be?"

Severus stared at him. That warm hand, covering the Dark Mark, was like a bandage, healing an old wound. And just like the Dark Mark, the love Remus gave him in this very moment would stay with him, never to be erased, binding him to the one who had given it. Severus was much more inclined to tie this bond, he was much more inclined to be part of this man's life. They were like two parts of a whole. What was a piece of parchment in comparison to that? What was some withheld information? Meaningless. The flood of emotion he felt hurt. Only that this didn't hurt in the same way as receiving the Dark Mark had. It was a sweet pain.

And as he closed the gap between them, pulling Remus close, he was sure for the first time that the answer he gave Remus from his heart was what Remus wanted to hear. "Yes," he whispered just before their lips touched and Remus's arms came around him, spreading a warmth through him that made all bitterness, all obligations, and all fears fall away from him, leaving him with only the sensation of Remus's love. This, even if it were to last for only one second, was worth a thousand years of pain and outweighed them easily. And when he felt Remus's hands run soothingly over his back, forgiving was suddenly not so impossible after all.

He didn't know who started the unbuckling of belts, the unfastening of clasps, the undoing of buttons, but, catching a sliver of Remus's golden eyes, he knew that this was the perfect moment, the perfect situation for what he had thought so unlikely just minutes ago. And when he led Remus through the heavy black door at the far end of the room, holding Remus's hand, he knew that his damaged soul was much too weak to bear this sweet pain and would burst any moment now, any moment of those golden eyes on him that were inflicting it. But he would take that risk gladly.

Remus kissed him again as they drew level with the dark four-poster bed, pushing Severus's unbuttoned robes off his shoulders so they fell heavily to the floor at their feet. Severus felt his hands trembling as they reached the skin of Remus's chest, having opened his shirt, but he didn't even try to hide it from Remus. There was nothing to hide anymore now. Indeed, there wasn't.

As Severus broke the kiss, not satisfied any longer with only feeling his way, the golden eyes gave away a flash of that anxiety that Severus had seen a week ago, and as Severus laid eyes on Remus's uncovered skin, he realised where that anxiety had its source. Scars were scattered over the pale skin of Remus's torso, old ones, white and withered, broken by more recent rosy ones, all crisscrossing and running out of sight here and there. He became suddenly aware that it was thanks to the Potion he made for Remus that none had been added since September.

They had both frozen in Severus's first indirect encounter with Remus's agony, and Severus only moved again to trace those silver linings with careful fingers, stopping at the outskirts of the very first one, for he did not know whether Remus would be comfortable with being touched there yet. But looking at it, in the knowledge that Remus did not usually let anyone see it, was intimate enough for now. Severus leant in to kiss Remus's lips, meeting his eyes as he pulled back, and he saw that it reassured Remus without words. He had feared, surely, that Severus would be revolted by the scars, but far from it, it inspired a certain awe in him. While Severus was still busy caressing Remus's skin where it had been marred, the werewolf let his shirt and robes slide off his shoulders to join Severus's and, kissing Severus's temple, urged him to shed his own shirt.

Remus stopped Severus from hiding the underside of his left arm by turning it with soft fingers to run them over the ugly red skull with as much unbelievable love as he touched the rest of Severus's body with. When all clothing had been shed, Remus took the lead, pulling Severus with him as he laid down on the red silk sheets of Severus's bed, closing his thighs on Severus's hips. Feeling Remus's heated skin under his own, Severus nearly forgot to breathe, dragging his lips over Remus's cheek. He wondered if Remus noticed that Severus had never been touched like this, had never touched like this. But it didn't seem to matter either way.

It was not even a little unreal when Severus watched Remus reach for his wand to make a jar of oil appear on the nightstand. It felt more natural than anything had in Severus's life. Remus laid back, caressing Severus's cheek as his legs tightened on Severus's hips. Tearing his eyes away from the oil, Severus looked back at Remus, finding his face flushed, his lips slightly parted, his breathing uneven and fast. When he brushed his trembling fingers over Remus's flat belly, pausing at the jagged scar left by the other wolf's jaws, never touching it, Severus knew the answer to the question on his lips. But he wanted to hear Remus say it.

"Are you sure you want this?"

Remus's lips quirked into a smile. "Never surer about anything," he whispered breathlessly. And it was so true for them both.

It increased the heat that was building in Severus's body, and soon all that mattered in the world were their lips on each other's skin and their fingers dragging intense caresses over each other's bodies. And when they became _one_ , finally, _finally_ consummating their connection, it was an incomparably intense feeling. Severus's veins pulsed with hot blood that he could have sworn was Remus's flowing into him, hearts beating wildly, chests heaving against each other, trying to draw enough air to compensate for their breathtaking kisses. Severus wanted to pause in this moment, in this embrace, for all eternity, he just wanted to let himself sink into the deep gold of Remus's eyes and drown in them. It would be a beautiful death. And – oh – when had anyone _ever_ looked at him like this? With desire and trust and pleasure and warmth and love, yes, _love_. It was overwhelming.

Remus held Severus's face in firm but tender hands, legs entangled with Severus's, and sighed his name now and then, a single tear, perhaps shed for that sweet pain, escaped through his black eyelashes, rolling over his skin, mingling with droplets of sweat and catching in Severus's black hair, which was brushing the werewolf's flushed cheeks, while Severus smoothed back Remus's tousled hair and ran his free hand over that very first scar, the one which had changed Remus's life forever and had led him right here in the end. It made the werewolf shiver and arch his back and it was intriguing to Severus just what his touches were doing to Remus. And it seemed as if every movement, every caress took Remus further apart, increasing Severus's awareness of just how much Remus trusted him, just how completely and utterly he put himself into his hands. Now they were both unguarded, and Severus had never experienced a greater trust himself.

Finally, Severus's muscles tensed as he was overcome by a flood of indescribable pleasure that washed over his body. Remus, too, seemed to feel it as he cried out, echoing Severus's own exclamation of bliss, and Severus was amazed by the sight of him, his amber eyes, so dark now, rolling upwards, their lids fluttering closed only to reveal two cauldrons full of swirling liquid luck mere moments later, locking again with Severus's. As the wave of pleasure ebbed away, it had washed away the ecstasy, leaving in its wake a new feeling, one that Severus hadn't known. Something that made him want to hold Remus close and never let go. Something like a deep, blissful satisfaction, spiced with a sweet pain. And Remus was the source of it.

Moved by that feeling, Severus ran his hand through Remus's hair and over his forehead and let his thumb trace the curved line of those lips, his eyes narrowing, exploring the relaxed features, skin shimmering, hair tousled and damp, mouth curled into an absentminded smile, and he realised with surprise and wonder that he had caused all this, when Remus's now even huskier voice broke the breathless silence in the semi-dark room, the air still hot and heavy with their panted pleasure.

"I never thought that a lover would ever look upon me with such scientific curiosity."

Severus looked into Remus's amber eyes and leant in to kiss him. He didn't even try to find words for what he felt, or any words that were fit to be uttered in such a situation, for he knew none, and he decided that, just now, not speaking at all was best. And he felt comfortable in his silence, for he knew that Remus didn't need words. He shifted his body a little to settle down against Remus's, while the werewolf ran his fingers over the damp skin of Severus's back, leaving pleasantly burning traces. It was such an unknown intimacy, so intense and warm and _good_ that Severus didn't know if he'd be able to live without it. The last barrier was breached. He was _feeling_ Remus now, he was feeling him so deeply that he was sure that he had never felt anything or anyone before in his life. _This_ was feeling.

When he pulled back from the kiss, Remus's peaceful features and the love in his eyes made Severus smile. All accusations and suspicions were far away now, and it was inexplicable to him why they had been there in the first place. Severus was closer to Remus than anyone. Remus was _his_. A pleasant thought. Remus raised his hand to cup Severus's cheek, and Severus was startled by the reflection of his smile in the amber eyes.

"I love you, too, Severus," Remus said quietly and Severus, succumbing to that sweet pain, did not respond, but turned his head to kiss Remus's palm before he lowered his face to press it into the crook of Remus's neck, lips to his shoulder, tightening their embrace. His breathing slowed, his eyes fell shut and after some time of enjoying the feeling of being so close to each other, his dreams swept him away into a world whose pleasures could never match those he had experienced in reality, for nothing could have given him a more sincere and blissful experience than the one Remus had led him to through all the troubles.


	23. Lesson Twenty-Three: Thing of Beauty

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: Hi, Avery, thanks so much for your reviews :) I'm glad you like my fic so much, and you know, you might just have saved it with your reviews. I'm definitely gonna keep updating now.

Oh, and elisabella442001, I forgot to answer before: The song Remus is singing is "Once in a Blue Moon" by Mabel Mercer.

* * *

 **Lesson Twenty-Three: Thing of Beauty**

Severus felt more like a living, breathing man than he ever had before. Some unknown warm contentment swarmed him when his consciousness slowly came back to him. Becoming aware of his body, he noticed that there was a prickling feeling in his arm, caused by a weight pressing down on it. He could barely feel the hand and fingers attached to that arm, but he felt that they were touching something warm and soft. He made an effort to move his fingers and they twitched against the warm something, feeling a smooth surface. The same kind of surface his other arm was draped over. The same warm something his legs were entangled in.

As Severus noticed that there were noises around him, he was almost awake again. There was birdsong outside the window, and his own breathing in his ears. But there was someone else's breathing, too, and he didn't just hear it, he felt it on his face, warm and slow and even. And now he became aware that something was tickling his nose, something like feathers. But the birds were outside, and their breathing wasn't like this. And they weren't warm and smooth. Still held captive by sleep's last desperate grasps, he stirred to investigate that warm something he was curled around, whose warmth was engulfing him, and he felt skin under his own. An unfamiliar feeling. And it startled him despite himself. His common sense and his memory hadn't quite caught up with him yet. He reasoned that, if that was skin under his own, then the tickling must have been caused by hair and the breathing must be coming from something – no, someone … someone who must be out of his mind for wanting to lie with Severus like this.

Severus didn't quite want to open his eyes, in case this was some exquisite dream. He felt cradled like this, an arm round his chest and a nose only just touching his own. This was new. He moved his legs to tangle them more tightly with those that weren't his own. He could feel fingers brushing his chest every time he inhaled, so he deliberately took deeper breaths. His memory now caught up with him, treating him to a pleasurable jolt of realisation that made him shiver. But his common sense was still out of sight. Maybe it was lost. If he'd still had it, he would've been surprised that Remus was still here. That he wasn't lying alone in a cold bed like he had all his life. He would've wondered how it could be that something like this happened to him, if there wasn't some catch to it. He would've thought that nobody would help him to the pleasure of such an experience without having an ulterior motive. Instead, lacking all common sense, he merely thought that he had indeed never felt so much like a normal man before. Normal, but special enough for Remus to lie here with him like this.

He now dared open his eyes and gently blew Remus's hair out of his face. It was a singular feeling, waking up beside him, skin brushing skin in a loose embrace. Remus's body was illuminated by the dim sunlight that was falling through the curtains, the white scars standing out against the smooth swathes of Remus's pale skin, and it made him glow warmly, much differently than the moonlight did, much more alive. Severus could feel his even breathing on his lips and kissed it away as he smoothed the tousled brown-grey hair back, out of Remus's face, letting his fingers brush the werewolf's cheek. He had never known himself to be a gentle man, but at this very moment he was gentled by Remus. As Severus noticed the silent smile Remus's lips were curled into, he frowned, wondering what pleasant dream might have placed it there. Was it as splendid a dream as the last night had been? Yes, it was unreal indeed to wake up beside him, breath caressing each other's faces in a close embrace. Especially when, looking up, one found oneself fixed by Remus's smiling eyes, clear and serene.

"Good morning," said Remus quietly, his mild voice hoarser even than usual, and his fingertips brushed deliberately over Severus's chest. "Severus," he added idly, for no other reason, it seemed, than to say Severus's name, and as he moved, sliding his legs over Severus's, a hot shiver ran through Severus, an unfamiliar sense of intimacy. There was an incredible warmth in Remus's gaze as he looked at him, an almost adoring smile on his lips that made a disbelieving one tug at Severus's. So this was what it felt like to be loved. Though Severus had known of Remus's feelings for many months, had known that he was loved, it was only now that realisation hit him, that he fully accepted and appreciated this for what it was and for what it meant.

Before, due to his own lack of romantic feelings, he had not wanted to ponder on it or to fully believe and submerge in it. Now, however, after last night, it was with an unknown ease that he settled into the embrace of Remus's love for him. It seemed to be only a negligible matter that he didn't return it in like. Remus gave it, at this moment, at any moment, without expecting anything in return. And that was the beauty of it. Taking a deep breath that filled his nose with their mingled scent, half sweet, half herbal, oddly moving, he formed the resolution that he would stay in this bed with Remus forever.

He said nothing as he traced a long scar on Remus's pale skin which ran down from shoulder to hip like a king's sash. It was the one whose upper half he had seen the day after the full moon, when Remus had been asleep. It seemed like an iceberg to him now, the biggest part of it hidden under the water. And he was the only one allowed to see it.

"I'm sure you could have imagined a more handsome partner to wake up to," said Remus with his usual self-ironic chuckle, but Severus clicked his tongue in disapproval. After all, if anyone in this bed could have done better in terms of handsome partners, it was Remus.

"No, I could not," Severus muttered truthfully, but he didn't add that he had never thought about anyone but Remus. Or yet that he had no one to compare Remus to in that respect. He felt Remus's gentle fingers running over his cheek and looked up at him. Unable to bear the tender gaze that was bestowed upon him, Severus leant in to kiss Remus, and the full lengths of their bodies touched almost like they had last night. It was a singular feeling, indeed. One that Severus could not have imagined. Or believed.

"Well, I'm glad that you haven't lost your voice at least," said Remus slightly breathlessly as Severus pulled back.

"What should I have said?" replied Severus, more embarrassed than he cared to admit. "What could I have told you?"

Remus chuckled huskily, running his fingers over Severus's back. "What, indeed …"

It was true, Severus did not know what to say or do, how to behave in such a situation. Especially with somebody he actually cared about. It was all trial and error, and Severus hated errors. But Remus's skin beneath his didn't feel like an error, nor did their kiss when Severus silenced that chuckle. Yet Severus suspected that it was not him who prevented errors in his trial, but Remus, his hands and legs and lips. It must have been thus last night as well. How else would Severus have managed such perfection? Severus, who had no experience in such matters? How could it feel so natural and comfortable, if not because Remus made it so?

Remus was still chuckling when Severus pulled back, his frame was shaking with it, and Severus started to frown. The vibrations had felt nice in his mouth, but now the sight and sound of it worried him. Remus reached up to caress Severus's cheek as he tried to suppress his laughter and he shook his head, his brow creased with the effort of keeping a straight face. "You really don't know what you could have said to me, do you?" he asked, and as Severus shook his head quite slowly, Remus heaved an amused sigh. "Well, that's all right then."

"It … is?" asked Severus, now rather confused. He had thought that he had disappointed Remus.

"Yes," replied Remus quietly, his suppressed laughter turning into a placid smile. "And that look on your face is priceless, it absolves you of everything."

"If only I knew what it is that needs absolution …" muttered Severus, but the annoyance he felt at Remus's amusement was a dear friend rather than a loathed foe now.

"Leaving me in the dark about your feelings," Remus replied generously. "Though I have got used to it by now … there are still moments when I wish I could hear from your own mouth what you think and feel instead of having to read it in your eyes."

"Which you usually do rather well, so why waste breath on unnecessary words?" remarked Severus in mock defiance and was surprised how at ease he was in this situation that he had never experienced before. Remus had that singular gift of making everybody feel at ease around him, no matter what the situation. And the vibrations of his chuckle against Severus's chest and stomach were quite pleasant, too.

"Why waste breath on words when you can use it for something entirely more straight-forward?" asked Remus and pulled Severus in for another kiss, wrapping his arms tightly round Severus's shoulders. After a moment, Remus's lips shifted and travelled over Severus's cheek and jaw, leaving a trace of shiver-inducing heat behind. Severus couldn't believe that he was here with Remus, that this was truly him and not somebody else, somebody kinder, more handsome, more lovable … But it was him. Remus treated him like this. It was too much to process. His brain shut down and suddenly he was all feeling. And Remus's lips on his jaw, his fingertips caressing his back and his legs tightening on his hips were more vivid and realer than ever, burning the awareness into his mind that, yes, he was actually experiencing this. He could feel how Remus's belly heaved with his breathing and pulsated gently with his heartbeat. Severus thought these were the most intimate sensations he'd ever had. He had never been closer to anybody in his life.

They were actual lovers.

The row they had had was unimaginable now. Severus was grateful for that. He didn't want to think about it. Not right now. While they were so close to each other, legs still entangled, the ensnaring heat of Remus's skin warming Severus's own. He wanted it to last for as long as possible. Running his thumb over Remus's jaw, he turned his head and kissed the werewolf's soft lips again. Remus pressed up to him and encircled his neck with his arms, gently running his fingers over Severus's shoulder blades in the process.

When Severus pulled back and kissed the scar in the crook of Remus's neck, there was no doubt that nobody had or would ever touch him like this. Touching him because they loved him like no other. It was unique. But did Remus feel the same? Or was it just another touch to him, with just another person? But would he be able to transmit this feeling to Severus if it were so? Severus couldn't imagine it. And the way Remus was smiling at him right now … didn't look like a lie. It looked like Severus was the only one for him.

Severus barely registered the words that Remus's lips formed, only heard the hoarse voice rumbling, and felt its vibrations against his stomach. Then he saw the lips curving into a smile and heard a husky chuckle before Remus snapped his fingers right next to Severus's ear. Severus scowled at him, becoming suddenly aware that the sounds coming from Remus's lips actually had meaning apart from being simply very pleasant. Remus smiled, caressing Severus's cheek.

"Am I right in suspecting that you don't usually stay in bed all day?" Remus asked with the air of repeating himself for the third time. Which was probably the case. "Do you mind if I stay a little longer or were you planning on throwing me out soon?"

But though Severus had not stayed in bed longer than it took for him to properly wake up since he had been a boy, he wasn't at all inclined to get up any time soon, not to speak of throwing Remus out. Trying to seem both indifferent and nonchalant about the matter, he shrugged and made a wide gesture with his hand that really didn't say anything. "This is your bed as much as mine today," he said quietly, and really, he thought he owed that much to Remus. "You can decide for yourself how long you want to stay."

Remus smiled and brushed the hair out of Severus's lowered eyes. "Is forever an option?" he asked mischievously, looking like a man who seriously meant to stay in this bed for all eternity. Severus wouldn't mind at all. Not that he'd admit it. Instead he rolled his eyes.

"Silly werewolf," he muttered before his inadequate lips were sealed by Remus's. But he made an effort, after all, when Remus released him. "That is taken for granted." Even though it wasn't. If Severus had ever not taken anything for granted, it was how his skin was sliding over Remus's and how his hips were cradled between Remus's legs.

"Nothing of this can be taken for granted," said Remus levelly, his brow creasing, his eyes narrowing as his smile widened. "All of this is incredible and unlikely. And I cherish it accordingly."

Severus looked into Remus's amber eyes, feeling both humbled and strangely self-satisfied. "No, you are right," he muttered then, knitting his brows as he let his fingers ghost over Remus's ivory skin. "This is nowhere near likely."

Remus chuckled as was his habit and cupped Severus cheek with the warm palm of his hand. "Which makes me feel even smugger for being here," he said with a wink and that twitching smile.

Severus snorted. "I should have known that all this is merely an elaborate prank to you," he said smoothly and it wiped the smile off Remus's face.

"No, Severus, don't even think something like that," Remus said softly, "you know that I love you."

Severus buried his face in Remus's neck and closed his eyes. He wanted to hear that. And yet he couldn't bear it. Gentle fingers laced with his and gave him that warm feeling again, that feeling he had grown addicted to. That feeling with no name. "You are a fool, I know that much," he muttered into Remus's skin. "A fool to feel like that and a fool to lie in my bed so vulnerable."

"Fools are the happiest of people, y'know," whispered Remus, dragging his fingers over Severus's back. There was something gloomy in his voice, something melancholy.

They lay in warm silence for a pleasant eternity, the sound of their breathing filling the room like the droning of a song from beyond a door. Severus thought that their hearts were drumming the beat of the song that Remus had once sung along to, the one from the record on Remus's gleaming gramophone. Severus thought that he'd never been so warm in his life. Or so close. So close to happiness, so close to satisfaction, so close to tears, so close to somebody else. In truth he had already passed into happiness and satisfaction, though incredulously, and the tears, wherever they were coming from, were only kept at bay by his utter self-control. He supposed that this was what tears of joy must feel like. Even though it was not so much pure joy as sceptical bliss that he was feeling.

After what felt like days, Remus heaved a sigh and applied a sensible tone when he spoke. "We had better get up, it wouldn't do to stay in bed all day, doing nothing."

"Not do for whom?" muttered Severus, making Remus chuckle. "I wouldn't call this doing nothing. Rather, we are …" He trailed off, feeling his neck prickling hotly in embarrassment.

"Bonding?" supplied Remus and Severus made a noncommittal noise. "Quite right. In a perfect world we would be spending all our days like this, carefree and satisfied. But unfortunately, you and I both have duties to fulfil and I'm afraid I'll have to remind you that you still need to brew the Wolfsbane for me if you don't want to get me sacked anymore."

Severus snorted, looking at Remus as he propped himself up on his elbows above the werewolf, who was giving him a look of mock suspicion. "I have decided to put that plan on hold for the time being," said Severus drily and Remus's lips curved into a smile. "And you don't need to remind me of the Potion. I would never forget."

"I don't like to ask you for it," said Remus, pulling Severus's face gently down to kiss him. "I wish I didn't have to be such a burden to you." As Remus's warm lips brushed Severus's, Severus let his fingers ghost over Remus's side to the werewolf-bite scar, making Remus shiver.

Severus sat slowly up, breaking the kiss in the process, and let his hands run over Remus's forearms as they left his shoulders. He gazed tranquilly down at Remus, who was meeting his eye steadily, running the back of his left hand languidly over his forehead as the fingers of his other hand wandered over his own bare chest. Severus couldn't quite process that he was actually seeing this, that this was real, that Remus was lying in his bed like this, bestowing that look on him. If he didn't feel Remus's naked skin against his equally naked hip, only just covered by the silken blanket, he would not believe it. He would think it a mirage.

"You are no burden," he said, as he realised that he should make Remus aware of it. "On the contrary you are a welcome challenge."

Remus smiled again and it was reassuring. As though that smile could stop wars, defeat all evil, stop Monday from arriving. It just belonged there on Remus's lips. Anything else was foreboding, threatening, or downright sad. Severus raised his hand to brush the hair out of Remus's forehead, knitting his brows as he studied Remus with curiosity and scientific interest. It was the first time that he was allowed to touch anyone like this, he wanted to remember this day, memorise every tiny little detail about it, about Remus. It mattered. It was something great, important, meaningful. Nobody could understand what it meant to him. Maybe Remus could. Touching and seeing him like this was precious, a unique privilege of unrivaled prestige. As though Remus was the king of all worlds and Severus his chosen lover, chosen among millions. But what thoughts. _Don't let anybody hear or see them!_

Severus stole another few touches of bare skin on bare skin as Remus sat up as well, unabashed as the blanket revealed his body, pressing up against Severus's side to share his warmth in the cold air of the dungeon. Severus still couldn't quite process the feelings that were swarming him. He would need a few days to catch up with them. He wondered what Remus felt, and whether he, too, was incredulous. But much rather, Remus seemed to be feeling as though he was where he had been destined to go from the start. It seemed to be natural to him, not at all unlikely, as he had stated. It was in the way he embraced Severus, the way he kissed his jaw and whispered to him, as Severus ran a hand up his scarred back.

"Would you care to take a shower with me before I leave?"

They were casual words spoken in a calm, far from seductive voice, but they sounded so sensual to Severus as though Remus had suggested in so many words that they continue where they had left off last night. He swallowed, avoided Remus's eyes, shook his head. He felt a little cornered by Remus's confident intimacy, though he appreciated it at the same time. To a man who had spent most of his years alone and without any sort of physical contact, this was overwhelming. Maybe he had listened to Remus's heartbeat through his warm skin for a little too long. It had intoxicated him. He did not mean to hurt Remus's feelings, though, not today, so he rationalised his rejection.

"I would have to take another shower after brewing the Wolfsbane," he said quietly, running a hand through his hair, but Remus didn't seem to be in need of an explanation.

"That's all right," he said mildly, "but I'll use your bathroom, if you don't mind."

And he was neither angry nor reproachful but entirely his usual smiling self, which reassured Severus once more. "Of course," said Severus with a firmer voice, as Remus pressed his forehead to Severus's temple before slipping out of his one-armed embrace. "I trust you will find everything you need …" He trailed off as his eyes moved slowly over Remus's naked body, sitting on the edge of the bed now, muscles flexing as he stretched the sleep out of his limbs. Severus's arm moved of its own accord and his fingers traced a lone scar on Remus's shoulder blade, causing Remus to shiver.

"I used to make up heroic stories about those scars when I was a child," he said softly, then he chuckled, "at least when I got the chance to speak to other children, which wasn't often. But one day I grew tired of the lies and started hiding those hideous telltale traces altogether." And he wrapped his arms round himself as though he wanted to hide his marred skin from view.

"They aren't hideous," said Severus, causing Remus to look round at him in surprise. "Not at all. And as I already know the tale they have to tell, there is no need to hide them from me."

The surprise held Remus's features captive for another few moments, before a disbelieving smile freed them. "Of course not," he agreed gently, and turned round one last time to kiss Severus's lips lovingly before he got up and entered the bathroom, not trying to hide anything at all. Though the door closed, Severus didn't hear the lock click.

Slowly, he got out of bed, looked out of the window as he pulled on his dressing gown and found the grounds deserted. It was lunchtime. He sighed, but instead of the irritation he had expected to be the cause of that sigh he heard bliss. As he heard the water running in the bathroom, it suddenly became very real to him that Remus was in there and that he had spent the night with him. So stunned, he gathered up Remus's discarded clothing and folded it, piling it up on the bed before he picked up his own robes from the floor where they had been left and forgotten the night before, lost in thought for a moment, remembering how Remus had slipped them off his shoulders. He felt Remus oddly vividly on his skin and smelled him about himself. It was as though they had mingled and left behind a piece of themselves in each other upon their separation. He had half expected Remus to have gone in the morning. But he was still there. So close. It was still so present, so real now.

As Severus donned yesterday's robes, he heard the water stopping and moments later Remus stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a large towel, his wet hair clinging to his face. As he slowly dried his hair, he watched Severus calmly, his damp skin glistening in the sunlight. Severus looked questioningly back at him and cleared his throat when Remus's gaze became too intense for comfort. Remus seemed to snap out of some kind of trance, blinked, and chuckled lightly.

"Forgive me, Severus," he said hoarsely and as he pulled the towel round his shoulders, Severus remembered those fingers digging into his back. "I was just admiring the change you have undergone since boyhood. I think it must be in the shoulders. You hold yourself straighter, prouder … that's quite attractive, you know."

Severus stared at him, perplexed. Remus, admire something about Severus's appearance? That was a first. Or was it? At least he was sure that it was the first time that Remus had remarked on something like this. Severus didn't know what to say and started to feel uneasy under Remus's gaze. "You're talking nonsense again," he muttered almost irritably. He began to think that Remus was playing a prank on him again. But there was no twitching in his smile, nothing that would have given away any mischief. Remus approached him, shaking his head, until he was so close that Severus could see the hairs on his arms stand up from the cold air.

"It isn't nonsense," Remus said with that feeling in his eyes and voice that he had dubbed "love". "It is something that can only be seen from the outside. Your own eyes wouldn't detect it, but it is there." And he wrapped his arms round the shoulders he apparently liked to behold, pressing against the body that was supposed to look handsome, and kissed Severus's unresponsive lips. Then he pulled back again and turned to dress in yesterday's robes as Severus had done. Under Severus's rueful gaze the white skin vanished bit by bit underneath thick fabric while he was still pondering whether or not Remus wanted to make fun of him. Or maybe say something nice about him just for the sake of it. Desperately scrabbling for some attribute or other that could be mentioned in a positive light.

"Maybe I shouldn't have said anything?" asked Remus mildly as he tied his shoes. "But I couldn't have known that such a small thing would affect you in such a fashion. Or maybe I should have known." He looked up at Severus with a creased brow and a vague smile.

"I don't need such silly flattery," said Severus stiffly, ungratefully, crossing his arms over his chest and glancing at the window, where he could see his reflection standing straight-backed and proud-headed.

"I didn't think you did," shrugged Remus, getting to his feet to lay his hands on Severus's crossed arms, "I just felt like saying it. I didn't say it because _you_ wanted it but because _I_ wanted it. And usually when receiving 'silly flattery' one says 'thank you' and feels good about oneself for a while."

Severus huffed but let his arms sink as Remus chuckled, taking his hands. "I'm not 'one'."

"No, you are the right one," said Remus, and stopped Severus's retort with a kiss.

As Severus walked Remus to the door, the werewolf turned round to him. "So, would you like me to come down here to fetch the Potion or are you going to deliver it as usual?" he asked, smoothing the creases on the shoulders of Severus's robes.

"I shall visit you in your office in the late afternoon," replied Severus, his hand on the doorknob, unwilling to turn it.

Remus nodded and straightened Severus's cravat with an affectionate smile. "Thank you, my dear," he said hoarsely, "I'm looking forward to it." And as Remus kissed him goodbye, he caressed Severus's chest and arms before his hand covered Severus's on the knob and turned it, pulling the door open for him to disappear through it.

Severus had feared this moment. Had believed that, as soon as Remus was out of the door, everything would vanish, would become unreal as though it had never happened. But it wasn't so. The piece of Remus that lingered inside him was still there, warm and comforting. Nothing vanished, nothing seemed unreal at all. Everything was a vivid memory, a distinct anticipation. It had happened and it would happen again. Remus would be lying with him again, gazing up at him with a loving smile and trusting eyes. And he would invite Severus to lay his head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat, lying in a warm embrace. And had all this really seemed unimaginable just yesterday?

He could say one thing for certain: he had not been in such an unshakably good mood in ages. For once he didn't doubt anything and was wholly optimistic as he brewed the Wolfsbane for Remus, took the much needed shower while it was cooling, and dressed in some of his best robes for its delivery to Remus's rooms. Silly really, but not as silly as looking at himself walking straight and proud in all the mirrors and windows, or doors and walls pretending to be mirrors or windows, that he passed on his way to the werewolf's office.

When he arrived, the door was open and there was a cold draught blowing through the open window by which Remus was standing, clad in fresh robes, his hair disheveled, his jaw unshaven and that same tune on his lips that Severus had heard once before, sung quietly along to the record on his gramophone. Severus cleared his throat as he stepped into the room and closed the door. Remus stopped singing, turned, and his smile went on again, bathing Severus in safe, soothing light.

"Is it that late already?" asked Remus, who looked, as Severus now noticed, much less tired than he usually did, despite the stack of homework on his desk. "Must have forgotten time over my daydreams. Not the first time, certainly not the last." He laughed as Severus set the goblet with Wolfsbane down on the desk.

"What were you daydreaming about?" asked Severus smoothly, meeting Remus's eyes.

"I'll give you three guesses," Remus replied and let his eyes wander out of the window again with a wistful smile.

Severus walked round the desk to stand behind Remus, inhale his scent, absorb his warmth, and follow his gaze to the Whomping Willow, which was swaying slightly in the wind. In a surge of affection that was clearly a defence mechanism against the negative memories connected to that tree, he kissed Remus's neck and pulled him back against his chest, away from the window. Remus's thoughts should be where Severus's were right now.

"Do drink the Potion before it turns cold," he whispered close to Remus's ear, "how often do I have to tell you?"

"I like it when you tell me off, didn't you know?" Remus whispered back, settling into Severus's embrace.

"That explains quite a lot," said Severus silkily, reaching for the goblet to shove it into Remus's hands. "Now drink!"

"Thank you for the Potion," said Remus, though as usual he had difficulty sounding entirely sincere. "And for caring."

"Not at all," said Severus wearily, as Remus gulped down the Potion, "it is no trouble."

"But thanking you is all I can do in return," Remus insisted, wiping his forehead as he put down the goblet. "No, there's something else I can do. I can offer you a cup of tea."

"If it eases your conscience," said Severus silkily and let Remus take his hand to lead him into his sitting room. It was incredible how much more intense this touch felt now. They sat down on the sofa and Remus made the tea, handed Severus a cup, and leant against him with a contented sigh. Suddenly he started chuckling.

"Took me twice the amount of time it usually does to correct last week's homework because I couldn't hold on to a single sensible thought," he said, running a hand over his unshaven jaw with a scratching sound. "Every time I went to the bathroom to shave I forgot what I was doing there. Look how scruffy I am."

"I don't find it particularly disagreeable," said Severus, giving Remus a sidelong glance.

"Nobody has had that effect on me in …" Remus continued thoughtfully, tapping his fingers on Severus's thigh, "actually I don't think that I have ever felt like this." And he smiled more to himself than at Severus, but it was Severus who felt even better for this remark.

And it was so easy now to just lean in and kiss Remus, pulling him close, burying his fingers in the depths of those tattered robes. The extremely foul taste of the Wolfsbane was still on Remus's lips and tongue but it didn't bother Severus. He could make out every single ingredient that added up to the powerful effect of controlling the beast in Remus's body. Severus pulled back as that thought crossed his mind. Remus gave him a questioning look, running his thumb over Severus's bottom lip.

"What's wrong?" he asked but Severus could not answer at once.

He wanted to see that part of Remus, too, the part that Severus himself had tamed. The obscure one, the animal one, the wolf. Wanted to be with him during the transformation, support him during that horrible experience. And wouldn't it please Remus to know that? Wouldn't it prove that Severus really wanted all of him? That Severus didn't care what but only who he was? Why should he deny it if there were clearly only advantages?

"Ah, I know," said Remus, giving him a crooked smile and Severus already thought that no words were needed, but, "the Wolfsbane. Tasted your own medicine, did you? But it's your own fault. You knew it was still there and I told you it was disgusting."

Severus shook his head seriously and Remus fell silent. "That is not it," he said quietly. He cleared his throat. Why would Remus refuse it, really? "Would you grant me permission to be present at your next transformation?" Severus said formally, a little uncertain of how to put his request.

Remus tensed and his expression became suddenly unfathomable. Severus had that strange sense of foreboding that Remus's unsmiling face evoked. Remus drew breath and frowned. "No," was his plain answer and Severus felt offended despite himself, due to the finality in Remus's voice. There seemed to be no room for negotiation. It was a definite no. Without even giving a reason.

Severus couldn't hide his confusion about the unexpected reaction and needed to let it sink in before saying anything. "And why not if you would be kind enough to tell me?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm, but failing. He didn't mean to pressure Remus about this, it was private, but really, the werewolf could at least explain.

Remus's face softened a little but he also averted his eyes. "I cannot let you see it," he said quietly but firmly. "I don't want you to see it.

"I thought we'd agreed that you don't need to hide anything from me," said Severus determinedly but Remus shook his head.

"This is different, Severus," he said harshly, pulling away from Severus, "believe me. I know what I'm talking about. I don't want you to see it. It changes me. It makes me into something monstrous."

"But you are going to be perfectly sane," said Severus exasperatedly. "It is part of you. So show it to me."

But Remus just gave him a very rare and very serious scowl. "It is not me, Severus," he said quietly. "It has nothing in common with me. I won't show it to you because, no matter how much of my mind remains in that body, it is _not_ me. It _is_ a monster. I am not an animal and I am not comfortable with acting only on instinct, possibly even endangering you. I don't want you to define me by _that_ , I don't want you to look at me and see a wolf's face staring back at you, particularly since you've already almost been hurt by that beast once before. _This_ is me, and I want you to see only this. It is such a rare pleasure to be looked at and considered a human being and not a Dark creature even though you are aware of my being one. I don't want to see that curse reflected in your eyes, too."

"But the curse _does_ define you," said Severus and thought he sounded reasonable instead of defiant, "if you weren't what you are, we wouldn't be …" He trailed off. Wouldn't be what? What were they, really? Whatever it was, he knew he would regret not being just that. All this wasn't thanks to Severus, but to Remus and the goodness in him that the curse had enhanced. That curse had made them equals.

"You might be right," said Remus, caressing Severus's cheek. "Nevertheless, I am not the wolf and the wolf isn't me. It has had an influence on me, or rather, the effect that the knowledge of my condition has on people has had an influence on me. That doesn't make the wolf a part of me. It takes a part of my life, that's true, and I cannot prevent that, but I will let it into as little of the rest of my life as possible – it has already claimed too much, cost too much … please understand. Now that you've saved most of my mind from it, don't ask me to share you with the wolf, too, after I have had to lose so much to its existence already."

Severus swallowed and lowered his eyes. He couldn't comprehend this of course. He wasn't a werewolf, didn't have to share his body with another being. Remus had once told him that it was important to him to draw a clear line between himself and the wolf. That was why he sometimes meditated. He did not accept the wolf but separated it from the rest of him. Was it indeed like a second spirit occupying his body, one that constantly fought against his? Did it strain him to keep it at bay? Was that the reason why Remus didn't want Severus too close to him around the full moon? And how come that, after all this time, he still didn't believe that Severus accepted him as he was? Perhaps because Remus didn't accept himself as he was ... Yes, that must be it. It pained Severus, and he wished that he could change it, but he didn't know how.

Remus feared that the wolf might contaminate his connection with Severus, that it might change Severus's feelings for him. There was nothing for it but to accept his wish to conceal that part of himself from Severus. And what had been meant to bring them closer to each other now seemed like a step in the opposite direction. Severus leant back and heaved a sigh, pulling up his left sleeve to look at the Dark Mark, branded into his skin, shimmering red in the firelight. Hadn't he shown Remus his own monstrous side a few months ago? Hadn't he told him what he had done as a Death Eater? How great must Remus's fear of losing Severus be, if he didn't want to risk showing him something that was nowhere near as monstrous as Severus had been in the past? But if Remus was so afraid of losing him, perhaps Severus should count himself lucky instead of being offended by not being trusted enough.

"Forgive me," said Remus quietly and touched Severus's forearm in that affectionate way, causing him to lower it. Severus snorted and raised an eyebrow at a crow sitting before the window.

"No need to apologise," he said, "it is your decision, and I shall respect it. Forget that I asked."

"No, Severus," Remus replied gently, "it means a lot to me that you did. Thank you for asking."

Severus brushed this off with a wave of his hand and laid his arm round Remus's shoulders as the werewolf shuffled closer again. Notwithstanding their disagreement, they were closer than ever. That had to be enough for now. Severus closed his eyes and rested his temple on the top of Remus's head, his hand covering the werewolf's on his thigh, just sitting in silence for a while. It was one of Remus's talents to fill silence with just as much meaning as conversation, thus giving Severus the impression that it was not wasted time but enjoyable and rare recreation from noisy school life. For a short while they could take a break and just enjoy that new intimacy in pleasant silence.


	24. Lesson Twenty-Four: Raison d'Être

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: Someone's self-confidence needs bolstering, and we know that that is what Remus does best.

* * *

 **Lesson Twenty-Four: Raison d'Être**

It was the last week before the Easter holidays and Severus was sitting next to Remus in his shirtsleeves. They were on the floor underneath Remus's bedroom window, where the werewolf had decided to rest as weak legs failed him and trembling arms couldn't hold him steady on the windowsill. Severus had found him in the early afternoon, bringing the fourth dose of Wolfsbane, and sat down beside him without questions, lending moral support, though it was a silent one. Remus had kissed him, maybe in gratitude, maybe in search of solace, and as soon as he had drunk the Wolfsbane, he produced magical fire in the empty goblet to warm them where they sat on the bare stone floor. He was fidgeting even now, long after giving up on arduous kisses and the urgent removing of Severus's thick clothing to feel his skin, because they were rather unsuccessful due to his nervousness and shaking that couldn't be soothed by Severus's arms. Now he was wearing Severus's jacket against the cold and Severus had rolled up his sleeves – like he would never do in anybody else's company – against the heat in his own body.

Exam time was approaching and stealing Remus's last strength. When he wasn't sitting on the floor, unable or unwilling to get up, he was surrounded by books, parchment, quills and ink, often lying in a circle around him on the floor and all available surfaces, even the Dark creatures' cages, as though he was preparing a ritual to summon some kind of benevolent spirit. And the closer the full moon, the more pronounced the exhaustion in Remus's features and body. Severus was even more aware of it now. When he had held Remus the night before last, up here in the tower rather than down in the dungeons because it was warmer here, there had been a rattling in his slow breathing and a weakness in his muscles and a search for shelter in the way he had buried himself in Severus's embrace. Now Severus wished he had slept up here last night, too, so he could have helped Remus up from the floor.

Sharing Remus's bed was more than pleasant and Severus would gladly have done it – not that he would admit to it – but Remus hadn't wanted him to, now that the full moon was so near. Another thing Severus did not comprehend. But he couldn't do anything about it. Arguing about something like that would make him the same insensitive prick that Remus had already believed him to be that other full moon after which Remus had confessed his love. A simple rejection of Severus's kiss had been the cause of that quarrel. Severus would not complain about not being let into Remus's bed. That was something he would not address. Though he _was_ unhappy.

Suddenly, Severus felt Remus's hand on his forearm and as he looked round he found Remus considering his Dark Mark. It made him uncomfortable. Trying to make it look casual, Severus turned his arm so that the Dark Mark was pointing down and out of Remus's sight. He shifted uneasily, and pulled his arm away as Remus made to take his hand.

"I'm sorry," whispered Remus, his lips touching Severus's ear, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just looking properly for the first time."

Severus hissed irritably. "There's nothing to see," he growled, but he let Remus turn his arm around anyway. "It is barely visible."

"True," said Remus thoughtfully, running gentle fingers over Severus's branded skin. "Only just." And his index finger traced the outline of the skull and snake, making Severus shiver pleasantly. Should this feel so good? Maybe this was what Remus felt when Severus touched his werewolf-bite scar.

"I never show it to anybody," said Severus to lend the moment more significance and Remus smiled to himself.

"I know," he said softly, "you're lucky to be living in Scotland. No need to roll up your sleeves in summer." He chuckled and Severus snorted, grateful despite himself that Remus was relieving the tension. "I understand how that is," he continued, lacing his fingers with Severus's. "But I'm not just anybody."

"No," agreed Severus, tightening his fingers on Remus's hand. "But I still don't want to have you staring at it."

"Sorry," said Remus, crossing his trembling legs. "I was just wondering … does every Death Eater have such a Mark? Because we never knew until you changed sides."

"Yes, they do," replied Severus looking straight ahead. "The inner circle were all Marked as the Dark Lord's most loyal, most able followers. Of course we were only a select few. Not every follower carried the Mark, but those that called themselves the Death Eaters did."

"And you learnt to conceal them …" muttered Remus absentmindedly.

"As you can see, the Dark Mark is not usually that vivid on the skin," explained Severus, trying to talk the feeling of unworthiness away, "it only burned black and clear when we were called to the Dark Lord's side, and ever since his fall it has lost further in clarity. It isn't hard to hide it under a sleeve as I do. Even if somebody got a quick glance at it, what would they make of it? The fewest people know even nowadays that we had those Marks. You only recognised it because you already knew it was there."

"Yes, I suppose you are right, but I just can't believe that I never saw …" said Remus in a slightly vacant tone. Then he shook his head and glanced again at Severus's arm. "Well, never mind. I'm sure you'd rather talk about something else."

"You won't get an argument on that from me," replied Severus

But it wasn't talking that Remus had in mind, much rather he resumed his trembling attempts at intimacy with Severus. And for the rest of the week Severus felt grateful for that small amount of affection, since he received very little over the next days. Remus was not exactly shutting Severus out, he talked to him and let him stay for tea. However, he tried to avoid intimate touches and soon Severus grudgingly stopped initiating them. He was familiar with this behaviour, but it was extreme this time. Could Remus be feeling so much worse this full moon or was Severus too sensitive? Was his own longing too intense?

He barely got a glimpse of Remus on the day of the full moon, though he touched him at the door, fingertips to unshaven jaw, before Remus asked him to leave again. Severus tried to feel with Remus but instead he just felt frustrated. Ever since that shared night a week ago Severus could hardly bear not being with Remus whenever possible. And this unnecessary separation wasn't helping. Severus wasn't exactly an understanding man, or a selfless one. So as soon as the sun rose in the morning, he was on his feet and hurrying upstairs to force his presence on Remus.

When he entered the sitting room, everything was silent and dim sunlight was filtered by red curtains. As the door fell shut behind Severus, he heard an agonised groan from behind the sofa. At once he rounded it and found Remus lying on the floor, trembling and hugging himself. Severus knelt down beside him and lifted him into his arms, causing Remus to groan again.

"Remus," he said quietly, "what's wrong?"

Remus coughed in response, burying his face in Severus's shoulder. Severus felt cold sweat on Remus's skin and heard him breathing raggedly. Then Remus mumbled some inaudible words into Severus's robes and tried to straighten up but whimpered in pain and succumbed to a coughing fit that forced him to lean back against Severus, who wrapped his arms around him.

"Oh, bugger it all!" croaked Remus angrily, struggling weakly against Severus's arms.

"Remus," tried Severus, slightly shocked, as Remus slumped back against him.

"I'm sick of this," snarled Remus and it was a half sob.

Severus had never heard Remus talk like that. Remus didn't usually let on how much he suffered after the full moon. "Come," he said a little helplessly, "I shall help you to bed. You cannot stay on the floor like this." He heaved a groaning and less than cooperative Remus to his feet and half carried him to the bedroom. Remus winced with every step Severus took, and Severus hushed him twice when he heard him mumble something incoherent. When they reached the bed, Severus helped Remus lie down and reached into his pocket to produce the potions that would hopefully make Remus feel better. By the time he had removed the stoppers, Remus was writhing in pain and swearing quietly under his breath. "Shush, Remus, drink this, it will help," said Severus authoritatively and helped Remus sit up.

"Nothing can help me," replied Remus hoarsely, and his tone was – to Severus's utter surprise – not only weary but also dripping with furious self-pity. His greying hair was glowing golden in the rosy light of the rising sun that was filtered by the curtains.

"Yes, _I_ can," said Severus irritably, tightening his grip on Remus's shoulder, "my potions can. And you are going to drink them. Go on now!" And he raised a phial to Remus's lips, which parted obediently. Even swallowing seemed to be painful to him. "You dunderhead."

A slight chuckle, painfully mirthless, shook Remus's frame, much to Severus's regret, for it caused him to squirm with pain once again. "Thank you for coming so early. I would have stayed on the floor for another few hours if you hadn't," Remus rasped before the next potion was poured into his mouth.

"I merely wanted to …" started Severus but trailed off as he realised that he should perhaps treat Remus to the truth instead of his usual spite, "… see you."

"Not a nice sight today, am I?" said Remus flatly, settling down on his pillow.

"As if I could care less," replied Severus irritably, "it is the unknown self-pity that is bothering me."

"Sorry about that," said Remus sarcastically, "of course a lifelong excruciating struggle with a stigmatising curse doesn't warrant self-pity."

"Impressive," said Severus, sitting down on the bed beside Remus and stretching out his legs on the blanket. "I would not have believed it possible, but you are quite good at bathing in self-pity. You almost make me want to pity you, too. But instead you just irritate me."

Remus looked round at him, scandalised at first, then tired and defeated. "You are right, I let myself go," he said softly, "I don't usually do that … but for the first time there is someone there to listen to me. And I can actually give in to weakness for a moment."

"It's not like you," said Severus firmly, "it is unsettling. You are all right, are you not? If anything is seriously wrong you must tell your personal Potioneer."

Remus smiled weakly, laying his head on Severus's shoulder. "No, it's all right," he said, "I'm just a little under the weather this month. Full moon wears me out."

Severus rose from the bed. "Rest now, you will soon be on your feet again," he said in what he hoped to be an encouraging voice. "Is there anything else you need? Otherwise I shall get back to work," Severus added but Remus's weak grasp on his hand stopped him from leaving.

"I need _you_ ," Remus said, his voice weak but determined. "I need you to lend me strength. I need you to slap me verbally when I am talking nonsense. I need you to stay. I need you."

Severus looked silently at him and didn't know what to say. Didn't know if that had been a reproach, an accusation, or a plea for help. Or maybe a love declaration. He stood still and didn't know what to do. Remus managed a vague smile and slowly shook his head at him.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" he asked patiently.

Severus thought for a moment. "No," he said then. Remus chuckled.

"I love you," he said. "Come back here. If you leave, I won't survive it." And it was so frank and sincere that Severus couldn't deny him his wish. His work had to wait. Remus, Severus realised, was more important than work, much more important … than anything else. Especially now, when he needed Severus.

"Of course you wouldn't," said Severus smugly, "I should have known."

Remus chuckled again and Severus sat back down next to him, laying an arm around him. "It's true," Remus said quietly. "You should have."

"Well, you did not seem very eager to see me yesterday, so I might have forgotten …" said Severus, trying not to sound reproachful. Of course he did.

"You know why," said Remus calmly. "It is not that I don't want to see you before the full moon. In fact, that is the time when I want to see you most. But it is … difficult."

"Granted," said Severus curtly. "Now rest. I won't leave."

"Because I don't want it, or because you don't?" asked Remus with a smile in his voice, settling down against Severus and putting an arm around him.

After a short silence, Severus ran his hand over Remus's forearm. "Both."

"You are slowly getting a hang of making the right answers," murmured Remus tiredly, and before Severus could even reply, the werewolf had fallen asleep, leaving Severus to listen to his ragged breathing.

It was strange. Severus felt a stinging pain with every breath Remus took. As though he shared Remus's agony. Perhaps it was that part of Remus that had remained behind to stay with him wherever he went, whatever he did. He decided that despite the discomfort he felt because of Remus's pain, it was something he cherished. Something he did not want to lose. It was unknown but it did not feel foreign. How did one hold on to something like that? Severus had no experience to draw on and it was unpleasant to be on unknown terrain without at least a clear theoretical idea of how to deal with it. Remus was no great help. To him it seemed to be entirely clear and perfectly simple. Surely he would not even suspect that Severus did not know anything about it.

Maybe he was the only one who thought that things had changed. That everything was now deeper, closer, more intense. That they had only just become true lovers. And though it had only just begun, Severus was already afraid that it wouldn't last. Remus would leave him. It was inevitable, just a matter of time, really. He didn't want it to be true. He tried to convince himself otherwise, and it almost worked when Remus, having regained some strength over the day, talked to him in the evening about this and that, as though they were a married couple talking about everything and nothing at the end of the day. Severus had received and answered a letter from Lucius and Remus was showing sincere interest in that friendship, in Severus's life, even though he was displeased with Lucius's treatment of the Buckbeak case. But all this naturalness, all this unexpected bliss, only made Severus surer, in the end, that it could not last. Nothing good had ever lasted for Severus.

"What's worrying you now, Severus?" croaked Remus, taking a sip of the tea Severus had made for him. He was wearing a smile that would have been unthinkable mere hours ago. It was his customary one, almost carefree but for the bitter shadows in its corners. The amber eyes were surveying Severus closely. He knew Severus too well not to notice.

"You," said Severus curtly, his jaw set. Remus craned his neck to kiss him and spilled his tea on them both in the process. Severus swore, Remus laughed and cleaned up the mess with his wand.

"But I'm fine," he reassured Severus, "no more whining and self-pity."

"That is fortunate," muttered Severus irritably, "but not the point. You and I … you said it was unlikely …"

"So did you," replied Remus and Severus saw in his eyes that he knew what was worrying Severus. "That doesn't mean that it is impossible."

"Doesn't it?" asked Severus darkly. "Doesn't it mean that it is not going to last, that you will leave me before long?"

"If anyone's going to leave anyone, it's you," muttered Remus so softly that Severus only just caught it.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" he snapped, wrenching the empty cup out of Remus's hands to refill it passive-aggressively.

Remus sighed, shaking his head. "That's to mean that you want to change your attitude," he said and laughed a little. "Leaving it to chance is no good. If you tell yourself that it will happen, then it will, either way."

"Silly werewolf," growled Severus. "You know as well as I that it can't –" But before he could finish his sentence, Remus had kissed him. Just what wasn't possible again? Ah, yes. Maybe something as unlikely as Remus Lupin kissing Severus Snape was possible. But as all things …

"It can't last," whispered Severus against Remus's lips, rubbing his thumb over the werewolf's jaw.

"It will," Remus replied, "you can make it." And he kissed Severus again, with fervour and love, his arms snaking around Severus's waist to hold him close. It all seemed to be so easy to Remus, but to Severus it was infinitely hard. There was so much to lose.

"We shall see," he said softly, gently forcing Remus back into the pillows and following him with a tender kiss.

When Severus lay awake much later, blinking in the bright light of the waning moon, Remus curled up by his side with his head on Severus's chest and wrapped tightly in the blanket, it felt as though they were one again, two souls sharing the same vessel. It was warm, but unlike before Severus couldn't distinguish now if it was Remus's warmth or his own, much rather it was _their_ warmth. Or perhaps none of it was his but all of it Remus's, transmitted to him, shared mercifully with him to become his. Severus took a deep breath and Remus's head rose an inch or two with his chest. The sweet scent of his hair was pleasantly familiar. It made Severus sleepy. He scolded himself half-heartedly as he decided to close his eyes and stay where he was for just a few more minutes. Or hours. Possibly years. Remus had made him an idler. But was this idling? Wasn't it rather active enjoyment? The answer, he realised, didn't matter. It felt natural. It was intimate. Severus couldn't resist it. It felt far too good. Too good to be true, perhaps. It did not matter. Nothing did. Just this moment. Just this weight on his chest. Just this arm round his waist. Just this.

Severus woke to the scent of breakfast – tea, fresh toast, fried eggs, bacon, mushrooms – all mingled to become that special scent of morning. When he opened his eyes, he found Remus's face, so close to his that it must be in the aftermath of a kiss that he hadn't felt but that had woken him gently. Severus regretted that he had missed it. Remus was smiling. Severus sat up carefully, noticing the breakfast tray standing over his legs. He glanced at Remus, who was holding only a bowl of porridge with honey in it.

"Good morning, Severus," said Remus pleasantly. "I asked an elf to bring breakfast. I hope you slept well."

Severus nodded. He pulled the tray towards him and looked again at Remus's bowl of porridge. "I woke pleasantly too," he admitted, undecided whether or not he should really eat all that had been brought for him, when all that Remus was having was porridge.

"So did I," said Remus with a warm smile, reaching out to run his fingertips over Severus's cheek. "I like to wake with you by my side."

"Silly," muttered Severus but it was only half-hearted – a smile was tugging at his lips and he could barely resist its stubbornness. "Is that all you are eating?"

"For now," affirmed Remus, "but you can eat all you like, don't worry about me. The fat just wouldn't stay in, you know."

Of course Severus knew that Remus's stomach was easily upset before and after the full moon, but he just didn't feel comfortable as Remus watched him eating, only taking a tiny spoonful of porridge every now and then. Remus talked to him, though, hoarsely but animatedly, without the need for many answers. He was an excellent conversationalist, after all, Severus had realised that very early on. Nobody needed to make an effort at conversation with Remus, Remus always had something worthwhile to say. And when he was tired of talking, he kissed. Not that Severus would have commended such behaviour with anyone else, but concerning him it was most welcome. Remus was, after all, also an excellent kisser. That, too, had been clear very early on. As though it was a fine art. As though Remus had studied it at an Academy of the Art of Kissing. Or maybe he just had a lot of experience because he always started kissing when he ended a conversation. Severus liked to go with the explanation of natural talent. It made him less uncomfortable than thinking of all those faceless people it would else have taken for Remus to reach this level of sophistication.

But, alas, one could not indulge in such pleasures all day, least of all when there were classes and homework and detention. So Severus left Remus around midday to descend to his first Potions class of the day and he only saw him again in the evening. In the meantime he had noticed that Careers Advice was drawing closer again, and even though he had been spared the Appartition classes due to his responsibility for Remus's health and safety, he could not steer clear of this nuisance. It was like Christmas, it crept up on one to jump out from behind a suit of armour screaming when one had almost managed to forget about it. And as every year, Severus was entirely unprepared and unwilling.

His desk was littered with all kinds of pamphlets, sketching out all kinds of careers, and somewhere among them Severus found the list of his students, with notes from all other teachers next to each name. Sprout, Flitwick and McGonagall had all written him a note that, even though they knew of his "additional workload", they politely asked him to kindly fill in the gaps in the "Potions" column of their respective lists of fifth-years as soon as possible. Severus glowered down at all three lists and took out a quill to indignantly write everything down that the other Heads would need to know about the Potions achievements of their students. Then he sighed and decided to deal with his own students later.

It was not the task that he dreaded, for he had done this many times and most of his students had profited and actually made something of their lives. He knew his students, he knew their marks, their strengths and weaknesses and he knew what he would tell each of them. It was the sheer magnitude of the task that he didn't want to face. When he did something, he did it properly and with greatest care, and right now he wasn't in the mood for time-consuming tasks that took several days to complete, he was in the mood to idle with Remus. To actively enjoy doing nothing with him. He took great pleasure in this newfound pastime. So he indulged in it.

This made him much less resistant to any kind of ruckus, which resulted in the loss of a considerable number of rubies from the lower bulb of the Gryffindor hourglass throughout the following days as the last Quidditch match of the season was drawing nearer and many Gryffindors and Slytherins were caught dueling in the corridors. In the meantime, Remus recovered well and volunteered to assist Severus with his preparations for Careers Advice. He sighed reminiscently when he leafed through the pamphlets and found one that read " _Teaching Takes Tenacity_ ".

"I was very stubborn about this one," said Remus explanatorily, "even though Professor McGonagall warned me that it would be difficult for me to work with children. Because of my condition, of course, parents wouldn't want me anywhere near their children. But I wanted it so much. She said that it would be a great loss if I couldn't become a teacher."

"Because you have what it takes?" said Severus, fully aware that it was true. Remus chuckled.

"I was born to be one," he replied, looking at Severus over his shoulder. "I'm not usually immodest, but I know that I am a good teacher."

"I would not dare to deny it," said Severus, laying his hand into the back of Remus's neck to give it an affectionate squeeze. After all, Remus had taught him how to be affectionate. "But surely you could have chosen a profession that would have been less problematic in terms of your condition. One at the Ministry, one to do with Dark creatures, perhaps."

"I could have, it might've been easier in the long run," Remus agreed. "But that isn't what life is about, is it? Life is about fulfilling your wishes and living your dreams and going the hard way no matter what, instead of just settling for less than you want."

"I fear that you will forever have less than you want … or deserve," remarked Severus darkly, letting his hand run gently over Remus's back.

"Perhaps," said Remus, "but at least I never resigned myself to that fact. At least I tried to make the best of my life." There was a long silence and as Remus broke it, he gave Severus a curious look. "What would you have liked to become, by the way? I know, you'd like the position I have now, but that can't have been your dream as a child. You never wanted to be a teacher."

"I didn't," conceded Severus.

"Well, then what would you be now if you could've had your way?"

Severus didn't answer at first, he needed time to think about this. He certainly knew what he could have done. He could have become a Healer, worked in Law Enforcement, or as a Potioneer. But he also knew that no career that he had looked at had truly appealed to him. He had wanted to become known for his great inventions, not just in Potions but also spells, or for his outstanding dueling skills, or his extraordinary cleverness. In short, he would have liked to live in a novel, where he was the hero and anything was possible. But this was the real world and next to nothing was truly fathomable. He was an authority in his particular field of expertise, but only among the teachers of this school. He had invented potions and spells, but all the good it had done him was dismissive derision from his fellow Potioneers for being a mere Potions master at Hogwarts, a short clap on the back from his fellow Death Eaters for his trademark spell, _Sectumsempra_ , and a few particularly painful experiences, dangling in the air by his foot after his very own _Levicorpus_ had been stolen and used against him. And though he had fought quite a few duels during the Dark Lord's time of power, they had been against the wrong people, for the wrong side, and he was no hero but a spy in the shadows of history who would never matter to anyone and whose contribution to the conquering of evil was only just big enough to serve as atonement for all the evil he himself had done. Nobody admired him.

He felt Remus's lips on his cheek and noticed that he had been staring into empty space for a while. "I don't think that I ever had a clear idea of what I wanted to become," he lied, "it was never a question. I knew I was going to become a Death Eater."

"But when you were a child you didn't," said Remus seriously.

"I …" began Severus but paused before going on, "I wanted to be more than I was. More than anyone could ever be. I failed."

"Says who?" asked Remus, still so serious. Severus raised an eyebrow at him.

"I do," he said smoothly and held the list of students out to the werewolf. "Why don't you stop worrying about my career and help me find careers for those who don't have one yet?"

"Of course, why not," Remus said obligingly, taking the list from Severus. He scribbled a few notes on it and Severus waited in silence, acknowledging the remarks Remus made on each student, be it praise or otherwise. An hour later, Remus seemed to be done and put down the list and his quill. Then he started watching Severus intently, without saying anything. Severus grew irritable.

"What is it?" he snapped, folding his arms over his chest. Remus smiled.

"You are more than anyone could ever be," he said mildly and Severus groaned.

"Are you starting again?" he snapped. "Don't give me that sympathetic codswallop. I'm not Neville Longbottom and you don't have to hold my hand just because I've never achieved anything in my life."

Remus shook his head and his smile became vague. "I don't care about your career or what you think you have or haven't achieved," he said calmly, "for all I care you could be an unemployed good-for-nothing."

Severus gave him a confused look. "Indeed?" he asked for he could think of nothing cleverer to say.

"Indeed," confirmed Remus. "You are a good man and I am very fortunate."

"If you say anything more I might have you carted off to St Mungo's," replied Severus but Remus was already snaking his arms round him and making to kiss him. "Or rather anybody who hears you would."

"They don't know you as I do," said Remus and pressed his lips to Severus's. "Nobody knows you as I do, do they?" he added as he pulled back and Severus lowered his eyes in discomfort. Remus had noticed, had he? Severus didn't know whether to feel embarrassed or relieved. "I love you," said Remus after a few moments, thankfully letting the matter rest. Or maybe Severus had misunderstood. "You are the one who should worry about what others would say. We can only be together because no one knows about my condition."

"No," Severus replied indignantly, "we can be together because you have said condition."

Remus didn't reply and when Severus looked up to read his expression, he found Remus bewildered. The werewolf played with the buttons of Severus's shirt until he regained his speech. "Does that mean," he said slowly, "that you want me because I'm a werewolf?"

Severus looked away and cleared his throat. "I simply don't believe that you would be who you are now if you weren't a werewolf. You would not understand me like you do and we would have little in common. A werewolf and a Death Eater. We are quite a couple."

Remus chuckled. "Well it is not that farfetched if you think about it," he said and Severus, who had thought about it many times, agreed wholeheartedly. And he was determined never to let Remus go. "You were made for me. And I want to grow old with you, Severus, I want to stay with you until I die."

"I think it is a little early to discuss that," said Severus, slightly overwhelmed. He had never thought about such things, let alone talked about it as a distinct possibility. Remus was so sure. How could any man ever be so sure about anything so indefinite.

"I'm sorry," said Remus, smiling broadly, "you must think me silly, but … the fact that I have found love in you is still incredible to me. You don't know what the past years were like. You don't know how often my father told me that I would not find love and be able to keep it. And now I have you and anything seems possible. So I'll be silly for a while if you don't mind."

Severus was surprised. So Remus, too, could be overwhelmed by these things, maybe even by Severus. Yes, they had each other, an unexpected turn for them both. And maybe anything _was_ possible. Severus smirked. "I cannot believe that I am saying this," he said silkily, "but I do find your Gryffindor conduct quite agreeable."

"Oh, Severus, don't flatter me so," teased Remus, "I'm blushing." But this time it was Severus who had the last word.

"To put it quite frankly, I hoped you would," Severus retorted smoothly and was extremely smug when it startled Remus into speechlessness. After all, usually Severus was the one at the receiving end of rather witty remarks. He smiled into their kiss – which was apparently the only answer Remus could think of – and when all torches had been extinguished and the castle was asleep, they were still awake between Severus's red silk sheets.


	25. Lesson Twenty-Five: In the Right Place

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: Hey Misao, thanks for your review, great that you like my story so much. I'll keep updating as fast as I can :).

I hope the move went well, Avery, I'm glad you liked the last couple of chapters, they are some of my favourites :).

* * *

 **Lesson Twenty-Five: In the Right Place**

It was Remus's birthday when next Severus opened his eyes to the sleeping werewolf beside him, tangled in a warm embrace. The castle was quiet and Remus's breathing seemed to be the only sound in the world. Since it was the werewolf's birthday, Severus decided to let him sleep as long as he would. It was not entirely selfless of course. Severus enjoyed every second of Remus's skin against his. He had never known this feeling and he had always thought that people were making an awful fuss about it and that it must be entirely overrated. He gladly ate his thoughts now. He would even say that it was entirely underrated and that no one could make a sufficient fuss about this feeling. He would never admit it of course. Least of all to Lucius, who had always mocked Severus for being "happy with his own company". He always snickered when he said it – Severus could not even imagine why, nor did he want to.

When Remus woke around midday, Severus realised fast that, actually, he was much happier with Remus's company than with his own. Especially when they were all alone like this. Remus put his head on Severus's naked chest as he stretched his limbs and made every impression of wanting to go back to sleep, pressing against Severus with some fervour. But after a while, he sighed and cracked open an eye to glance at Severus's face.

"I want to stay in bed today," he said quietly, his voice hoarse and low. "But I don't expect you to share that wish."

"It is your birthday," said Severus indifferently, "you may impose on me any wish that you might have."

He expected Remus to laugh, but found him serious, perhaps mockingly so. "It is as I always say," mused Remus matter-of-factly, "good things come to those who charge forward and take them."

Severus looked at him and snorted. "I don't think that that is how the saying goes," he said silkily, letting his fingers crawl up the back of Remus's neck.

"That's my personal rendition," replied Remus with a smile. His nails scraped lightly over the skin of Severus's chest. He dropped a kiss to the same spot. Severus couldn't suppress a shiver.

But it was Remus who wanted to get up in the end, even after having indulged in more of yesterday's physical intimacies. Severus didn't really believe that it was a backache, as Remus claimed. He thought it was the desire to be wished a happy birthday by people, maybe for the first time in years. Even if Severus had done it, it would probably not have been enough, now that there were so many people who liked Remus and who would surely like to spend his birthday with him. This was confirmed when they met McGonagall outside her office, which Remus had passed very slowly, talking a little too loudly to be natural – at least that was Severus's impression.

McGonagall did indeed wish Remus a happy birthday and invited them into her office, remarking only curtly on their unlikely friendship as Severus shot her a warning glance. They were both served a glass of Scotch and shortbread and Severus thought that McGonagall deliberately left the door wide open for their colleagues to see and join them. Which they did. One by one. And much to Severus's displeasure. In the end the office was packed with all Heads of Houses, the Headmaster, and Hagrid, and the only reason why Severus didn't escape was that he was pressed against Remus, their knees touching.

In the evening, Remus coerced Severus into staying with him in his rooms, which were admittedly much warmer than Severus's, and as they lay in bed, Remus's slightly rattling breathing was the only sound to be heard, like the rustling of cold wind in dried leaves. Severus tried to remember what he usually worried about, this time of year, what would annoy him, what would irk him, for he found that he was rather satisfied, even after a day spent in other people's company, being mocked for his initial dislike of his new colleague when he so obviously liked him now. Apparition lessons, exams, and Quidditch seemed so unimportant to Severus, now that Remus was part of his life, that he could not quite fathom why they had been so important to him in the past.

"When I see all of you together, I wish that I could be Head of House, too," said Remus quietly, almost inaudibly. Severus snapped out of his thoughts and glanced at the werewolf, whose amber eyes were gleaming in the moonlight that was falling in through the window. "I'd like to belong to that little community of yours. You Heads are much closer than the other teachers. Almost like friends."

"I wouldn't go quite so far," muttered Severus almost defiantly. But then Remus knew more about friendship than he did.

"Well, I would," smiled Remus. "I'd like to delude myself that one day I could replace Minerva. But I've still got a date with a lethal curse in the not so far future."

"Don't take it so lightly," snapped Severus despite himself, "it is a serious matter that you want to be prepared for."

"But how would you suggest I prepare for something faceless that I can neither prevent nor evade?" asked Remus calmly, and his gentle fingers drew soothing circles on Severus's chest.

There was no answer to that, at least none that would have occurred to Severus at that moment. He looked silently into Remus's tranquil amber eyes. Once again Remus's breathing was the only sound in the room. Severus hoped that today had been enjoyable for Remus, who had so little time left in the castle, among people he liked and who liked him regardless of his condition. He could not comprehend why Remus was so unworried. Why he did not moan about the inevitable fate that would befall him: the return to the lonely, shunned life he had known. Did he not dread it?

"If you cannot change the inevitable, you should enjoy the here and now while it lasts," said Remus, as though he had looked into Severus's mind. "What good would it do me to tremble before a potential outcome that I cannot change in any way? If you prepare for the future too much, you forget to live in the now."

"Yes, yes," snarled Severus indignantly, "keep your pearls of wisdom to yourself. Personally, I do not believe that there is any such thing as too much preparation in the face of anything to do with the Dark Lord."

"Granted," yawned Remus, shuffling closer under the blanket to drape his leg over Severus's. "And yet I cannot say that I am overly bothered. I'd much rather occupy myself with you."

"How very touching that I seem to matter more than your own life," growled Severus, resting his cheek on the top of Remus's head, breathing in his sweet scent.

"Don't exaggerate, Severus," chuckled Remus tiredly, "my life is hardly at stake here. It's my job that I'll lose."

"You don't know that!" snapped Severus, sitting up in bed. Remus blinked at him and looked rather bewildered. Severus felt suddenly foolish and hurried to explain himself as matter-of-factly as possible. "There have been deaths, there have been serious injuries, and other unpleasant accidents. You are being unduly carefree."

Remus smiled warmly at him. "Thank you for caring so much," he said hoarsely. "I see that you worry. I promise that I'll take care of myself."

"I don't worry, I simply cannot stand even one more second of your brainless Gryffindor nonchalance," spat Severus and the harshness of his tone surprised even him, much more so than the rude words that seemed like an old acquaintance after a very long absence. He had not spoken to Remus like this in a long time. Why did he do it now? He would simply have needed to silently agree with Remus's words and the werewolf would have rewarded him. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he be a human being for once in his life?

Remus looked at him with a quite unfathomable expression on his face. Surely he hadn't expected to be talked to like that on his birthday of all days. "Don't misunderstand this, Severus, but that just now is one of the reasons why I never quite believed you to be the right person for the job of Head of House," he said calmly, quietly, and his voice didn't sound in the least offensive. Yet, Severus felt more offended than he had in months. "I know how to deal with that side of yours, but what about the students?"

Severus was fuming now. He didn't know what was wrong with him. "I have been in my position quite a lot longer than you have been in yours," he said angrily as Remus propped himself up on his elbows. Severus moved a little to the right to bring a distance between them, he didn't want Remus to touch him right now.

"I know that," replied Remus levelly, "I didn't mean to criticise you. I was just saying that I don't think that that position is right for you. It is Albus's mistake, not yours."

"You dare –" started Severus but his raised voice hurt his ears after the perpetual silence of the past hour or so, causing him to stop and pull himself together. "If you have any complaints about me, you are welcome to tell the Headmaster that you think I should be relieved of my duties as Head. I could use some more free time."

"Severus," said Remus softly, but seriously, looking straight at Severus. "You know that I wouldn't do that. I'm sorry. Let's forget that I ever said anything. It wasn't my place to do so."

"You are quite right it wasn't," hissed Severus. Then he remembered why Remus had said something in the first place. And once again he was clueless as to why he had lost his temper. "I think I'd prefer to sleep in the dungeons."

"Don't," said Remus firmly as Severus made to get out of bed. "I didn't throw you out when you called me brainless, did I?"

Severus huffed but stayed where he was. "Maybe you should have …" he muttered more to himself than to Remus.

"Maybe," agreed Remus much to Severus's indignation. "But I know that you didn't mean it. You worry. You don't want to lose me, I know that much. There's no shame in that."

Severus gave him a dirty look and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "You always seem to think that you know everything," he said and felt a little defeated. "Then there is no need for me to apologise for being cruel to you on your birthday."

"It is always nice to hear the words," smiled Remus and his eyes were almost tender as they drifted over Severus's face. Then his expression became stern. "I have been wondering for a while now whether that Mark on your arm means that one day Voldemort will return. You know he will, don't you? And you know better than anyone what that means, and what it means to be subjected to a curse cast by him."

"I don't want you to …" said Severus quietly, trailing off because he didn't even want to think about the Dark Lord's curse and its consequences for Remus. Indeed, he was angry with Remus for underestimating what it would mean to Severus to lose him. Didn't he know that he was the only one who mattered to Severus?

"I promise that nothing will happen to me," said Remus gently and Severus felt like an upset child that had to be soothed. "There are more than enough reasons why I could lose my position, even without that curse. I am the one who should worry. You were a spy once, you have lived by Albus's side, under his wing, for over a decade. What will happen to you when your Dark Lord returns?"

"You know as well as I what I will have to do," said Severus evasively but Remus would not relent.

"But what will happen to you once you do it?" he pressed on. "Albus will want you to return to being a spy. But what will happen to you? Tell me."

Severus felt cornered. He had always refused to think about the moment when he would have to answer the Dark Lord's call again. Though he knew that it would happen one day, he tried to pretend that there was plenty of time to spare until then. But he also knew that he was refusing to think about it because the most probable outcome would be his own death. He had never much cared about that. Today he did.

"He might welcome me back into the circle and use me, just like Dumbledore would use me," he said, glancing at Remus, who was just now lighting a magical fire in his palm, probably to be able to see if Severus was being sincere. "But it is far more likely that he will kill me without so much as a grain of regret because I betrayed him. If so, I would be lucky to be spared torture."

"And yet you would return to him, even though you could stay inside these walls, protected and safe?" asked Remus, his brows knitting, and Severus knew that the werewolf would never hide, would go and face whatever danger the Dark Lord held in store for him. But just like Severus would not want Remus to risk his life for a cause that only saved others but never him, Remus didn't want Severus to do so.

"I shall do whatever it takes to help Dumbledore's cause," Severus said quietly. "My life does not matter much compared to the good I can do if I play my part."

Remus's brow creased, but there was a smile on his lips. "Now that is a more suitable job for you," he said mildly and when Severus gave him a bewildered look, he added, "the hero in the wings … I wish that everybody could see you now."

"In my nightshirt?" asked Severus mockingly and Remus laughed hoarsely.

"No, that's only for my eyes to see," he almost purred, making Severus tighten his arms over his chest in something like embarrassed arousal. "I'd like everyone to see you as you truly are."

Severus made to retort something snide or snarky about what he truly was, but he stopped short as he looked into Remus's warm eyes. He swallowed. He had been rude enough for one night. "As long as you know, it matters not what everybody else thinks."

Remus smiled again. His palm was still filled with magical flames. "Sometimes I think that not even you know your true worth," he said mildly, leaning in to kiss Severus's lips. Severus had not expected a kiss. Not tonight. He had been much too unpleasant to deserve one. When Remus pulled back, his amber eyes rested on Severus's lips for a few moments before he licked his own and leant back against the headboard. "You know that, when the time comes and you need someone to be there for you, I would be happy to be that someone."

Severus lowered his eyes to the blue flames in Remus's palm. "I appreciate that but I really don't think that I'll take you up on it."

Remus raised his eyebrows and looked genuinely taken aback. "But why ever not?" he asked. "Would you really rather deal with your troubles alone?"

Severus heaved a sigh. How could Remus understand? Then something crossed his mind: Remus could understand quite easily! "There are some things that I'd rather not tell you," he said carefully. "I rather like you seeing me as a hero, as delusional as that is. I would not want you to realise that I am really a monster in a hero's guise."

"Oh." Remus's eyebrows disappeared into his fringe. He seemed at a loss for a few moments. "But, Severus, you are no monster. And I could never see one in you." He took Severus's hand firmly into his own. "All I want is to share your burden."

"Why?" asked Severus curtly, and it made Remus laugh again, as though it was the most ridiculous question he had ever heard.

"Because I love you," Remus said then, tightening his grip on Severus's hand.

Severus didn't reply but averted his eyes. He should have known the answer. But it was so unreal still. "I have done, and will do, horrible things," he said quietly. "Things that nobody would want to hear about. Things that might change your feelings for me."

"Nothing would change my feelings for you, Severus," said Remus confidently, as though he truly believed it. "No matter what becomes of us, I will always be there for you. And I do want to hear all that you need to tell, because telling helps. It is like sucking poison from a wound. I care about you, and I don't want you to suffer silently because you think you have to bear everything alone. There is no shame in seeking help once in a while, or in showing a weakness. And even you have your limits."

Severus gave a mirthless laugh, then silence fell in the room again. He had never had anyone to talk to like that. It was pleasant to think about it. Just as pleasant as Remus's warm lips on his temple. "Some things are unspeakable," he said softly as Remus ran his hand up his thigh under his nightshirt. "Even if you want to hear them, I won't be able to tell them to you."

"The words will come once there is someone to listen to them," said Remus in that wise tone of his. His fingers caressed Severus's skin as his lips travelled over Severus's jaw. "And if they don't, I will be there anyway, and I will know."

"I have no doubt about that," whispered Severus, then he audibly drew in air as Remus's fingers crawled higher.

"And I will make you feel better," Remus added quite calmly, kissing Severus's neck.

"No doubt about that, either," muttered Severus as the magical flames went out, but he had forgotten what they were talking about. His mind gave over to the physical pleasures Remus's touches caused him.

In the following days, there was little else on people's minds than the last Quidditch match of the season between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Students hexed and jinxed each other in the corridors and Severus had a hard time pretending that he had no inkling of his Slytherins' attempts to systematically incapacitate the Gryffindor players. Remus scolded him for cutting them slack rather than disciplining them, but Severus, who was still sensitive to criticism voiced by Remus, would simply ignore him.

Remus didn't usually talk about the Quidditch match but he did speak his mind when he disapproved of Severus's actions, particularly when it concerned taking points from Gryffindors and ignoring ill deeds committed by Slytherins. Remus never addressed it in front of others, he respected Severus enough to wait until they were alone, but as soon as they were, he stood up to Severus just like he did to everybody else.

Sometimes Severus thought that Remus displayed this fearless self-confidence because he believed himself equal to everybody else and wanted to be acknowledged. Maybe he was afraid that his voice didn't count as much as those of others, because he was a werewolf. Maybe he was angry that it was so. Maybe he fought against the prejudice because it was utter rubbish and he thought that modern witches and wizards should know better than to support it. Remus knew what he was capable of, but he did not know his own worth. Because he, too, unconsciously perhaps, thought that there was at least a grain of truth in that rubbish, and that he, being a werewolf, counted very little, was beneath normal people like Severus. He was wrong. And Severus was dismayed every time he sensed this in Remus.

But despite everything, Remus possessed a natural dignity that seemed to have been born from both his feeling of inferiority and the knowledge that this feeling was unfounded and had been implanted in him by people who knew nothing. Severus wondered what kind of a person Remus would have become if he had not been told all his life that he wasn't good enough, that he wasn't normal and that he should behave accordingly. And just how much more self-confident he would be if he could only believe that his condition made him and what he had become even more admirable and not in any way inferior. But far from it. Remus more than once remarked that he wished to be open about their relationship, so that he could hold Severus's hand when they were taking a walk and so he could kiss him whenever he felt like it and not just behind closed doors after double-checking that there were no prying eyes anywhere. But he always added that he would never do that to Severus.

"And may I ask whatever you mean by that?" asked Severus in the evening of the day before the Quidditch final. They were sitting on Remus's sofa, drinking tea, and there was a slight edge to his voice, he knew. But he didn't like it when Remus spoke of himself like he did today. It wasn't that Severus was in any way fond of the idea to be more open about his relationship with Remus, but he did not want Remus to think that it was because of his condition.

Remus smiled benignly, perhaps because he was glad that Severus hadn't just agreed but pretended not to know what Remus meant. "What would people say if they found out that you are involved with a werewolf?" he asked matter-of-factly and answered his own question, "They would demand that you be fired. They would shun you like they do me. They would be disgusted and show you that openly."

"And what makes you think that I would care?" snapped Severus, his heart suddenly racing, he knew not why. Perhaps because he knew that everything Remus said was the stark truth, and not his lacking self-esteem painting the darkest pictures he could think up. And when Remus made to reply something, Severus couldn't bear even thinking about hearing why Remus thought he would care. "Well, I _don't_ care," he said rather loudly to stop Remus from answering. "I'm not one of those spineless fools whom you seem to have encountered throughout your life. I chose to be involved with you and I stand by that and would stand by that no matter who cares to challenge me about it."

Remus raised his eyebrows as though he was genuinely surprised. Then he smiled vaguely and took Severus's hand. "I know," he said firmly, but Severus had the distinct feeling that Remus hadn't known until a moment ago. "That's one reason why I love you. But I would still not want you to be in that situation."

"That would be my decision, would it not?" said Severus irritably.

"Not entirely," replied Remus thoughtfully, "but I suppose that you could make it yours if you wanted to … So, do you? Perhaps you would like us to tell Albus right away to make sure that we observe the proprieties before holding hands at the breakfast table tomorrow."

Severus snarled at him and Remus had a hard time keeping a straight face. "That would never happen, even if the whole world knew about us," Severus said and now Remus was chortling heartily. "Apart from that, it is entirely impossible for us to be open about our … involvement at the present time."

Remus stopped laughing and looked a little hurt despite his own stance regarding this matter. "And why is that?" he asked almost lightly. Almost.

Severus heaved an exasperated sigh as though Remus was being particularly slow. "As we discussed the other day, I shall one day attempt to rejoin the Dark Lord's inner circle," he said quietly, deciding not to mention that he didn't know how to be open about something he didn't even know the true nature of. How would he explain to anyone what they were to each other? Especially when the word "love" would not come over his lips. "In the case of success, it would be very impractical if anyone knew about you. I would be vulnerable. And of course the Dark Lord would never hesitate to kill me if he knew that I had engaged in … relations with you."

Remus seemed relieved. He nodded seriously and appeared entirely satisfied with that explanation. "Of course," he muttered, "I hadn't thought of that."

Then Severus grew curious. "But just say that we did decide to be open about this relationship," he said casually, "how would you explain it to, say, our colleagues, or your acquaintances?"

Now Remus looked at him in utter bewilderment. "What do you mean 'how'?" he asked and laughed. "I would tell them that I love you." Severus averted his eyes, feeling uneasy. Would it really be that easy for Remus? "Why, what would you say?" asked Remus then, softly. He had already learnt what to expect when he asked such questions. Usually silence. He must feel horribly unloved when he received such a silence from Severus.

"I don't know," said Severus just as softly. He owed an answer to Remus. "I've never thought about anything like that."

There was a short retaliatory silence from Remus before he replied, "And you won't have to worry about it anytime soon, my dear."

Severus looked round at him and found Remus's brow creased. He wondered why he didn't just lie this once and tell Remus that he was completely sure about his feelings. But that would not do. Remus deserved nothing but the truth in this matter. So instead of a lie, Severus gave Remus a kiss and an embrace that were true. Remus laid his arms around him and kissed him with such fervour that Severus couldn't breathe. He could think of nothing but Remus. And then, quite suddenly, Remus pulled back and got up, leaving Severus behind on the sofa.

"I think I'll be going to bed now," Remus said and Severus thought he was being a tease on purpose. Of course he was.

"You mean _we_ ," Severus managed breathlessly, " _we_ are going to bed."

"Are we?" asked Remus and the corners of his mouth twitched as he looked at Severus over his shoulder.

"Don't play games with me, Remus," Severus growled, getting to his feet.

"But you have an important match tomorrow."

"You do realise I'm not playing?

"Fortunately for your team. But I'd hate you to sleep in and miss Gryffindor's victory," Remus said mischievously and Severus's heartbeat quickened again.

"You are begging to be disciplined," said Severus silkily and Remus laughed, apparently forgetting that he had been disappointed by Severus just a minute ago. "And I happen to be very good at disciplining people."

"Oh, I am quite aware of that," said Remus with a wink. "But I prefer your less commonly known gentle side."

"Then you want to stop teasing," said Severus, reaching for Remus's cheek, but Remus withdrew and moved towards the bedroom, beckoning Severus to follow.

"Come on now, Severus," he said with a grin, "it's bedtime."

Next morning, Severus had to floo back to his rooms, take a shower, and don his green robes instead of yesterday's black ones, all in quite a hurry because they had indeed slept in and Remus's alarm clock had failed them. When he was ascending the stairs to the Great Hall for breakfast, his stomach churned. Even with Slytherin's advantage in today's match, he had a feeling of foreboding. Potter could ruin even the best of days, and today there was plenty of opportunity for him to do so.

Remus missed breakfast, but he was among the crowd of people streaming down to the pitch and after Severus and Minerva had shaken hands and wished each other good luck between clenched teeth, the werewolf stopped beside Severus, pretending to be queuing for the stands. He was smiling in his best mischievous manner.

"Good luck, Severus," he said lightly, "may the better team win."

"I've told you before that you are not supposed to take sides," hissed Severus.

"As long as it's not Slytherin," said Remus knowingly. "But don't you worry, I've already prepared a little prize for the second winner."

"Typically Gryffindor," Severus said, then he realised what Remus meant. "What kind of prize?" he asked curiously, narrowing his eyes at him. Remus chuckled.

"I'm sure you'll find out soon enough," he replied and Severus scowled at him. Remus chuckled again, then he came closer and said in a low voice, "Oh, and by the by, green really is your colour."

Then he left Severus and climbed the stairs to find a seat among the Gryffindors. Severus looked after him in embarrassed confusion. He shook his head to himself when he realised that Remus's remark had felt rather nice, then he turned to wish his team good luck on the pitch. Draco was white as chalk. When Severus finally found a seat among the Slytherins, behind the goalposts, he found Remus in the crowd on the other side of the pitch.

Soon, Severus wished he had overslept and missed the match, after all. He was sure it would go down in history as the dirtiest match of all time. The Slytherin team was fouling and cheating shamelessly. By the time Draco grabbed hold of Potter's _Firebolt_ to stop him from catching the Snitch, Severus caught himself hoping for a Gryffindor victory to be spared McGonagall's revenge. He didn't even dare look at Remus, who hadn't looked surprised but exasperatedly amused when the fouling had started. Today, the Slytherin team really earned the antagonism of the other houses.

And then, suddenly, Severus's heart sank and pounded faster at the same time: Draco was diving for the Snitch and Potter was far away. But that blasted broom of his, of course, was fast enough for him to catch up quickly and then he was beside Draco, stretching out his hand, and …

A deafening roar went through the scarlet crowd, that made up three quarters of the stands, and Severus buried his face in his hands for a moment, not sure whether to be disappointed or relieved. He decided to get the most unpleasant part of this defeat over with at once and hurried to descend the stairs and congratulate McGonagall, who was actually sobbing with joy when he reached her. Then he walked away from the violently celebrating crowd, watching his silent Slytherins traipsing back up to the castle with hanging heads. The contrast was odd. Severus leant against one of the wooden pillars of the stands and watched as his Quidditch Cup was given to the Gryffindor team. It seemed that Potter ended all of Severus's winning streaks.

Suddenly, Severus felt a presence behind his back and he turned to find Remus, smiling faintly and moving towards him. Severus wasn't sure if he wanted to talk to him right now. Remus tried to keep his happiness in check, but Severus saw that he was thrilled beneath the surface.

"Well," said Remus, "you cannot always win." Severus wanted to slap him.

"Thank you for that canny observation," he grumbled and turned his back on him. "And who made that silly rule anyway?"

Then Remus was standing beside him and his warm hand snuck into the crook of Severus's arm. "I understand that you are disappointed, but let's not forget who played dirty, today," he said softly and Severus clicked his tongue irritably. "Still, since Gryffindor caused you so much dismay, I think that one Gryffindor has to make up for it." And he pulled Severus with him, strolling over the grounds toward the castle.

Severus was already thinking about what awaited him in his rooms, imagining all sorts of pleasures, but when they reached the Entrance Hall and made for the stairs that led into the dungeons, Severus caught sight of a Slytherin girl, hiding in the shadow of the stairs leading to the first floor, her face tear-streaked. Remus had noticed her, too, and stopped walking, indicating her to Severus. Severus nodded and moved towards the first-year girl, Remus following a few steps behind him.

"What is the matter, Stewart?" Severus asked quietly as he approached the weeping girl and she looked up at him. "Has anything happened?"

The girl hesitated and looked frantically around, possibly to make sure that nobody was listening. "It's nothing, sir," she said then, and Severus was sure that she was afraid of her tormentors. He knew only too well how that could feel.

"You can rest assured that whatever you tell me will remain between us," he told her firmly. "What is the matter?"

Stewart seemed reassured now, though she still hesitated before she answered. "The girls in my year," she said quietly, her voice thick, "they say I don't belong in Slytherin. They say that I should be sent home."

Severus suddenly felt his neck prickling. Remus was watching rather than saying anything. "You are Muggle-born, aren't you?" Severus asked. The girl nodded and shrank, as though she expected Severus to tell her that he didn't want her in his house, either. "I see."

He resisted the urge to glance at Remus, whose breathing he could hear in the empty Hall. The celebrations had not reached the castle yet. There were currently three Muggle-born Slytherins at Hogwarts. The others had not come to him crying, but they had had a hard time as well. And maybe they had cried in secret, too. He cleared his throat.

"How long has this been going on?" he asked softly.

"A few months," the girl sobbed and Severus heard Remus step forward but he must have stopped the impulse to give the girl a hug. Severus knew that Remus never touched a student if he could help it. So there they were, two teachers, both unable to touch a crying student, who seemed to be in need of at least a supportive warm hand on her shoulder. "I don't think I want to stay," Stewart continued, "I think I'll just go home and go to a normal high school."

But Severus wouldn't have any of that. He still remembered what leaving for Hogwarts had meant to him as a boy. "Believe me," he said, "that you would regret it, if you gave up now, if only because of the things you would not be able to learn and the friends you would not be able to make. The Sorting Hat placed you in Slytherin, and the fact that you are Muggle-born only proves all the more that you belong in our house. Nobody said it would be easy. You will encounter narrow-minded witches and wizards throughout your life, people who believe themselves superior to you. But what Slytherin is about is loyalty to our own no matter what your ancestry. A Slytherin does not give in to bullies. As a Slytherin I shall not stand for their disgraceful behaviour towards one of our own. You must stand up for yourself, and be sure of my support in this matter, I shall remind my house of what it means to be a true Slytherin."

The girl looked at him with wide eyes, as though she would never have believed that Severus would support her, a Muggle-born, in any way. "Thank … thank you, sir," she managed after a few moments of stunned silence. "I'll try to be a good Slytherin." And Severus thought that when she walked away she looked a little taller.

Severus felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to face Remus, who was smiling at him with a lot of love and a hint of shame in his eyes. "I was wrong, Severus," he said mildly. "You _are_ the right man for this job. I'm sorry I doubted you."

Severus felt a surge of warmth in his body. He didn't feel like the second winner now. He didn't need any other prize than this. This admission meant more to him than he cared to admit, and it tasted sweet on Remus's tongue as they kissed in the shadow of the stairs.


	26. Lesson 26: Fortune Favours The Brave

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note:Sorry for the long wait, been pretty busy, work-wise. Btw, this chapter's title was so long that I had to write 26 instead of Twenty-Six for the chapter selection, don't be surprised ^^.

DreamsAreMusicOfTheHeart, thanks so much for the great compliment, I'm happy that you like this rewrite, it's very dear to me :).

* * *

 **Lesson Twenty-Six: Fortune Favours The Brave**

As the next full moon approached, Remus started keeping Severus at arm's length again. He didn't keep to himself as much as last time, but he did keep a physical distance from Severus and forbade him to share his bed the last three nights before the transformation. Severus still couldn't comprehend it but he did not complain. At least not in so many words. He said it in snide but subtle words that Remus understood and chose to ignore. That was probably why their relationship worked so well. Remus didn't grow annoyed or angry at Severus, no matter what, he just smiled it away and gave Severus the feeling that even that part of him was loved. The one that everybody else hated.

Severus couldn't quite get enough of it. He could barely wait in the morning after the full moon to check on his patient more for his own good than Remus's. This month Remus had apparently been stronger than ever, for when Severus stepped out of his fireplace, he stumbled right into Remus's arms. The werewolf had obviously been decorating the mantel with photographs and was now chuckling huskily into Severus's shoulder, holding him tightly. Severus lingered in the incidental embrace, though he smelled the hem of his robes being singed.

Remus stepped back, pulling Severus away from the hearth and drew his wand to mend the singed robes. "I wasn't expecting you so early," said Remus hoarsely. "So nice of you to drop in."

Severus looked round at the photos on the mantelpiece. There were some from their youth, with any number of the four so-called "Marauders". There was one in an ornate frame that showed the Lupin family in Remus's early childhood, judging by the carefree looks on all their faces it was from before the werewolf bite. One with Remus and an infant Harry Potter in his arms, with no lightening scar yet. And there was a one with Remus and a big black dog, almost like a bear.

"So, you have finally decided to make yourself at home?" asked Severus incredulously. "Now, when the school year is almost over?"

Remus shook his head and shrugged. "Maybe I am trying to beat that curse with defiance," he said pleasantly. "I like it here. I don't intend to leave without putting up a fight."

Severus raised an eyebrow at him. "You want to defeat the curse with sheer defiance?" he asked and smiled to himself because he thought that if anyone could succeed in that endeavour it was Remus. "Or is it determination?"

Remus laughed. "Does it matter?" he asked cheerfully. "They both result in resistance."

"Yes, but is your resistance defiant or determined?" Severus pressed on and Remus shook his head with a twitching smile.

"If you need to make such a precise distinction, you will have to do it yourself," he said with the same finality in his voice that Albus sometimes applied.

Severus smirked. He didn't need an answer from Remus. He knew that Remus's defiance was determined. It wasn't loud and didn't force itself on one, it was no pouting lip, no scowling eye. It was a mild inward smile that could annoy more than any snide remark. Because there was one thing you could not take from Remus, and that was his dignity. When he lost it, he did so in a very dignified manner. But that never happened in front of those who disrespected him, those who thought they could show him his place. He smiled into their faces, smiled that defiant, determined, self-assured smile, not letting on what he was truly feeling. He persevered with a smile, no matter what he confronted, and particularly when he confronted derision.

Remus reached out a hand to give Severus's cheek a swift caress. "I like it when you look at me like that," he said softly. "As though I was incredibly attractive." He chortled as Severus gave him a scandalised look.

"Ridiculous werewolf," he muttered and looked back at the photographs, sitting down on the sofa as Remus served him tea. Severus's eyes lingered on a photograph of Black, his arm round Remus's shoulders, maybe fifteen or sixteen years old. Severus narrowed his eyes. If that had been him by Remus's side, things might have been different. Then something occurred to him. He glanced at Remus. "So," he said causally, "Black was quite the … crush."

Remus looked round at him, blowing on his tea, and gave him a curious look. "I suppose you could say that, yes," he said slowly. "I find it funny that you would acknowledge it, though."

Severus grumbled something even he didn't catch. When Remus turned his attention back to his tea, Severus drew breath. "You and he were very … close, weren't you?" he asked much too lightly and Remus actually chuckled.

"If you are asking if Sirius and I were ever involved in any kind of relationship that would have gone beyond friendship, then no, we weren't."

Severus felt a lead weight coming off his heart. He felt very foolish. Clearing his throat, he turned his own teacup in his hands. "But you … would have liked it to be that way?" he asked, still unnaturally lightly.

Remus gave him a knowing look and a slightly disapproving smile. "No," he said hoarsely, "I never loved Sirius like that. He was my friend, and that was exactly what I wanted him to be."

Severus nodded, relieved. And he felt even more foolish. "I just thought –"

"Does it matter?" Remus cut in and Severus was startled because Remus usually never cut in if he wasn't impatient, and he usually wasn't. When Severus didn't answer at once, Remus repeated, "Does it matter to you? Or are you simply curious?"

"Well," said Severus quietly, "it's Black …"

"And it would bother you if I had been involved with him," said Remus knowingly, "or if I had loved him as I love you."

Severus averted his eyes and said nothing. Of course it would have bothered him. Black, his worst enemy. The exclusiveness of Remus's love would have lost in weight. Severus wanted that place in Remus's heart for himself, and no one, least of all Black, was supposed to share it with him. This was something that belonged to Severus only. To win Remus's love all Severus had had to do was be himself. That was special, and he didn't want anybody else to have done it before. He wanted to be the only one for Remus.

Remus, as usual, saw right through him. "I've never felt for anyone as strongly as I feel for you," he said mildly, running a warm hand over Severus's forearm. "It should not matter whom I've loved before, when you know that you are the one for me." Severus glanced incredulously at him and his expression must have amused Remus, for he laughed, laying his arm round Severus's shoulders. "And you _are_ the one for me, Severus," he assured him. "I don't want to leave a doubt in your mind about that."

Severus smiled despite himself, letting his hand caress Remus's knee. "I am a doubtful man," he said silkily, as Remus nuzzled his temple, "there will always be some doubt left in me."

"How sad," said Remus amused, "but that won't do." And he kissed Severus, locking him in a tight embrace. "You have no reason to doubt me," whispered Remus and there was something in his voice that Severus couldn't quite identify, something like guilt. "I'm the one who should have doubts."

Severus made a questioning noise and his heartbeat quickened. Remus rested his forehead against Severus's and sighed. Not again. Severus hated it when he felt pressured into saying that he requited Remus's feelings. He didn't want to say that he didn't, even if it was true. He felt cornered again. And he wished himself away.

"Someone like me shouldn't believe in the possibility of finding true love," said Remus then and Severus's train of thought derailed. "And this would be the most improbable place to find it even if I wasn't suffering from lycanthropy. Sometimes when I look at you, I can't believe that this is real. It feels like a daydream, like wishful thinking. That I should really have found you and that you really want me ..."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," said Severus, a decided edge to his voice. "Do you think I am stringing you along, that this is all a big hoax for some ulterior motive?"

"No," said Remus softly. "No, you would never do that. But good things rarely happen to me. Particularly when they involve other people."

"What you are saying is absurd," said Severus, raising his head to be able to look into Remus's amber eyes. Could Remus actually be feeling unworthy of him? A very good joke. "You have every right to expect the best from life. You are perfectly good the way you are. And your condition will be no reason for me to leave you. I want you, lycanthropy and all."

Remus traced Severus's features with the very tips of his fingers. His face looked peaceful. "I wonder why you never show this side of yourself to the rest of the world," he said quietly, kissing the corner of Severus's mouth.

"Carrying your heart on your sleeve makes you vulnerable," replied Severus before Remus kissed his lips.

"Are you worried that I might hurt you?" asked Remus, pulling back a little to give Severus some space. Severus looked at him.

"Yes," he said without leaving a doubt. Remus nodded and smiled.

"I thought so," he said understandingly. "But I promise you that I will do my best not to."

"It is too late for me anyway," said Severus with some resignation. It was true, he had made a decision all those months ago and now was no time to regret it. He had experienced so much pleasure because he had trusted Remus and he was grateful. Yet, there was subdued worry buried deep within him. He didn't like to acknowledge it, but it was there. Maybe that was part of the reason why he could not speak about his true feelings for Remus, maybe that was why he didn't want to search himself for his true feelings.

"You know," laughed Remus pleasantly, "a little more faith would do you some good!"

And Severus figured he was right, as he always was.

Severus sat in silence for a long while, listening to Remus's slightly rattling breathing. When he grew curious why Remus wasn't breaking the silence, he glanced at the werewolf and started when he found Remus looking at him, almost staring, with a slightly wistful look on his face. Severus cleared his throat in embarrassment and loosened his collar. What was that look about? He sat up straighter and mustered a glare.

"What is it?" he asked as unpleasantly as he could. "What are you staring at?"

Remus smiled. "You," he said simply and Severus felt self-conscious.

"But why?" he snapped angrily. "Is there something on my face?" And he almost wished he hadn't said it, for Remus started laughing. He turned away, but Remus's hand on his shoulder stopped him. Severus didn't want to look at him.

"I'm looking at you, Severus," Remus said gently, in a low voice. Somehow they didn't sound like his own words. Then he chuckled. "But you wouldn't know that line. It's from a very old Muggle film my mother liked to watch. It's kind of a nonchalant love declaration."

Severus didn't reply. More and more, he had the feeling that Remus was making fun of him. But Remus's voice was serious when he continued.

"Anyway, I look at you because I like to," he said. Severus raised his head a little to indicate his attention. "Wish I had a photo of you to look at when you don't want to waste your precious time on me."

"You think that I don't already spend all the time I can spare with you?" Severus spat, whirling round in sudden anger. But Remus was chuckling again. "Because I do," muttered Severus, realising how foolish and childish he must have sounded. "I do."

"I'm happy about that," Remus said, smiling very widely. "It shows me how much I mean to you."

Severus looked away again. Embarrassed. "I don't have a photograph, and if I did I wouldn't give you one," Severus said firmly.

"Oh, then I'll just have to ask Albus for one," Remus retorted in that mischievous tone of his. Severus glared at him again.

"Don't you dare!" he hissed and Remus laughed. "I don't know why you would want to look at me constantly anyway," he added in a grumble, "it isn't as though I was a work of beauty."

"Oh, but you are," said Remus and there was no amusement, no mocking, no trace of laughter in his voice. "I know you don't see it, but you are. At the end of an exhausting day, and all through it, too, all I want is to see your face."

"But why?" asked Severus incredulously, for he sensed that Remus actually meant what he said.

"Love is always beautiful, Severus," Remus smiled, lacing their fingers. "Just as hatred is always ugly."

"So, you are saying that love blinded you?" asked Severus and was a little disappointed despite himself. "And there I thought that you needed to get your eyes checked."

Remus shook his head. "I'm not blinded by love, my dear," he said in that wise tone that made Severus feel almost like a student. "On the contrary, love opened my eyes. Hatred blinds you. Love helps you see things that no one else can see."

"Whatever you say," replied Severus, who thought he had no right to an opinion in this matter.

"I know what I am talking about," said Remus and his face fell a little. "I do love you dearly, after all."

This confession made Severus's heart beat faster. The cup whose handle he was still holding was clattering in its saucer. "And that is why I spend all my time with you," Severus said quietly, and it was true.

"What happened to us only happens once in a lifetime," Remus said warmly, tucking Severus's hair behind his ear. "And you are right to spend all the time you can with me, because we don't know how long it will last and we'll regret every single second we wasted."

Severus sipped his tea and said nothing. Remus was the one for him. He was. There could be no other. Remus deserved to hear it, but Severus could not bring it over his lips. He shuddered. It wasn't long now until Remus would leave. Did one regret all the things one didn't say, he wondered, once the chance to say them had gone forever? The faint possibility of it couldn't part his lips. He was too afraid that he might regret saying the things that were on his mind.

Remus kissed his cheek and squeezed his hand. And Severus thought he wouldn't be able to bear life at Hogwarts without him. Without the prospect of seeing his face at the end of an exhausting day. Life as it had used to be seemed unimaginable now. And Severus hoped it would never return. He hoped that he would never have to do without Remus's hoarse voice, uttering those words that showed Severus that he really mattered to somebody.

"I love you."

It told Severus that there was somebody who wanted to be with him when everybody else had already turned their backs. He wanted Remus close by. For the rest of his days. It robbed him of his well-earned sleep, had done so for several nights, because he expected something dreadful to happen to Remus any day now. He dreaded that Remus would have gone in the morning, maybe for good, without a trace or a message of explanation. He racked his brains how he could prevent it, what he could do to change Remus's fate, whatever it might be. There was little he wouldn't do. And yet, there was something that he feared more even than waking up to find Remus gone forever, had feared unconsciously for months, something that a little voice kept telling him might be the solution to everything, the one thing that would determine which path Fate would take, whether it would bring catastrophe or catharsis. It was that simple question that he had no answer to as it drifted through the darkness of his bedroom that very night.

"Do you love me?"

Severus had believed himself alone with his dark thoughts, he had not noticed the intrusion, which must have been noiseless. Maybe the footsteps had been too familiar for his brain to warn him of them. Perhaps Severus had been too deeply in thought. It was not that he would have minded the intrusion under normal circumstances. It was already rather difficult to sleep alone, and he only did so when he was too timid to ask Remus to sleep with him and when Remus did not ask him to. When he was too proud to get up in the middle of the night and wake Remus and admit that he wanted to be close to him. It was hard to fall asleep without him. Without the sound of Remus's breathing, without his warmth. More things that he would miss. Whose loss he dreaded. But not as much as that question. And wasn't it pathetic, wasn't it unworthy of Remus that Severus would rather have lost him overnight than be asked that particular question?

Severus propped himself up on his elbows and squinted through the darkness at Remus, who was standing beside the bedpost, clad in a dressing gown, fingers curled round the carved wood, bare feet standing on the cold stone floor. His eyes gleamed golden in the bright shaft of moonlight that was illuminating his face, and though Severus had often thought of them as extraordinarily beautiful, at that very moment they looked unpleasantly otherworldly and almost dead in their brightness.

Remus was completely still, not even a finger stirred, and it made Severus wonder if he was really there at all or if he was some kind of apparition. Maybe he hadn't even said anything, maybe Severus's insomnia had taken its toll and caused a hallucination of the familiar voice, asking that dreaded question, and maybe his eyes merely imagined Remus standing there. But no, Remus had asked, and he was there, at the foot of Severus's bed, watching him. He wasn't a spectre. Though he looked almost transparent now, in the moonlight, he looked braced as well, for the worst perhaps. For any answer that Severus might make.

The silence stretched and the question seemed more and more like a sword of Damocles hanging over Severus's head. It wasn't repeated and Severus didn't ask for it, not even to buy time. Why try to buy time to think about what to say when he knew he wouldn't say anything? Indeed, saying something seemed like taking a step forward at the edge of a cliff that was shrouded in fog. How could he know that he would tread on solid ground? He knew what Remus wanted to hear. And it was a surprise that it had taken him so long to ask. A man with more self-esteem or less love would probably have demanded an answer much sooner. What did Remus feel like, Severus wondered, being the one to love openly but to never receive anything in return? Did he think that Severus was using him? That Severus didn't think him worthy of any feelings other than lust? Could he really be so wrong, he who knew everything by merely looking into a person's eyes? Maybe he really thought of himself like that and feared that Severus shared those thoughts … Why else would he ask? Why else would he not be satisfied with what they had? Why else would he need to hear what Severus would not say?

But didn't he have the right to ask? After all, Severus's reasons not to answer were far from noble, weren't they? Maybe Remus wanted to know if he was right to invest feelings in a man like Severus, who never gave any indication of doing the same. Or maybe, just maybe, he felt just like Severus. Maybe he wanted to hear Severus say that he loved him because it felt good to hear it, maybe he just wanted to be a normal man in a normal love affair. And maybe he hadn't yet understood that that was impossible.

The moments passed and still there was silence. And Severus's thoughts took a different turn. Why had he not once thought about answering Remus's question? A question that had been asked covertly many times before, in many different ways. What would his answer be if he had to answer? If he didn't want to lie just to satisfy Remus? And he didn't, he had decided that very early on. Not even now, not even to save his neck. What, then, would his honest answer be?

So he repeated the question to himself: Did he love Remus? Was this love? His quickened heartbeat when he looked at Remus, the fear of losing him, the pleasure of touching him, the longing to talk to him? Emotions were treacherous. He remembered faintly that he had loved before, many years ago. The shadow of it remained as a dull ache and painful guilt. It hadn't been like this, had it? He had been young, he couldn't recall now. Perhaps love was different every time, depending on whom it was felt for. Severus didn't remember ever having known a feeling so intense as what he felt for Remus. Yes, one thing, the Cruciatus Curse, coursing through every ounce of his body, unfolded a similar intensity. And hadn't Remus said that the best love was the one that hurt so much that one thought one must die? But was it really love? Was it what Remus called love?

Or were those only feelings of self-interest? Did Severus only want to never be lonely again, now that he knew how it was to be together with someone who cared about him? Wasn't love supposed to be selfless? And wasn't it supposed to be worth any risk? Any loss? Just to have loved for one second, wasn't that supposed to be worth a lifetime of a broken heart? And didn't he feel that for Remus? Didn't Severus think of him like that?

Such a short, supposedly simple question. The searing pain Remus's eyes incited in him as they saddened with the stretching silence was exquisite. It wasn't simple at all. And he realised that the closer he came to finding an answer, the further away he wanted to be. He couldn't answer. It was impossible. He would gladly have satisfied Remus with an answer, but he couldn't. Somehow he knew that no good would come of it if he searched himself further and found an answer. Not knowing was safer, was better. For the both of them. What did it matter anyway? Severus treated Remus better than he had ever treated anyone and he gave him all of his precious time, which should be saying enough about how important Remus was to him. Words said nothing. And the first rule any Occlumens was taught was to reveal as little as possible about their thoughts and feelings. Tonight, Severus turned that rule into a law.

Remus usually lived by that law, too, Severus knew. He never showed to anyone what he really felt. But to Severus he did. Severus was part of him, why hide from somebody who was part of one? Severus half wished that he, too, could be like Remus. Remus was part of him, but that didn't change anything. After all, Severus wasn't completely honest with himself, either, now was he? When he looked into Remus's eyes, he saw no doubt, he saw clarity. Remus knew what he felt. And he would only accept a clear answer. He deserved it, too. Every second that passed without one must be affirming Remus in thinking that Severus did not love him. And to his surprise, Severus realised that he did not want that at all. He wanted to leave him in doubt, but not in negative certainty. Remus was not simply a toy to him, or a convenient lover. He meant so much more to Severus. And that sentimental part of Severus that being an Occlumens had almost killed wanted the werewolf to know as much.

Severus opened his mouth and closed it again. He tried to see through the fog at the edge of the cliff. Would anything but a simple and clean "yes" be acceptable to Remus? He could jump now, he could say something and risk everything. Or he could say nothing and risk as much. He didn't know which he was brave or scared enough to do. Perhaps, if he waited long enough, Remus would throw him a safety line as usual and he would slither out of this situation, reach the other side of the chasm by swinging over it in one leap. And yet he felt like a coward, he felt unworthy. It was his turn to say something. But what? Again he opened his mouth, after felt millions of minutes with those unpleasantly golden eyes on him.

"I –"

"Never mind," Remus said at the same time and the safety line was there, just a split second too late. Severus stared at Remus in incredulity and Remus stared back at him in surprise. Then he smiled sadly and shook his head as if to himself. "Ah, no. I mean it. I'd rather you said nothing at all."

Severus was struck entirely speechless. He was utterly insecure. And even a little hurt. What had that been all about? Obviously, even Remus's patience had its limits. That revelation was rather unsettling. Apparently he wasn't quite as sure about Severus's feelings for him as he had made out. Remus lowered his eyes and drummed his fingers on the bedpost, producing a vibration that travelled right to the headboard and into Severus's back. Then he looked up again and took a step forward, touching Severus's leg under the silk blanket. Severus swallowed.

"I'm sorry if I woke you, but I couldn't sleep," Remus said and it was rather odd of him to give this as an explanation for his being down here when Severus already knew the true reason. "You wouldn't mind, would you?" And Remus indicated his side of the bed to ask for permission to join Severus.

Severus didn't quite know what was going on and how to behave. Was Remus hoping that he'd take the opportunity to pretend that nothing had happened or was this some kind of test? Was he trying to find out if Severus – but Severus's head was buzzing with too many questions and uncertainties, so he decided to believe that Remus was serious about his change of subject and pulled back the blanket.

"Of course not," he said quietly. "And I wasn't sleeping. I couldn't sleep, either."

Remus smiled and shed his dressing gown, under which he wore only his pajama bottoms. Severus couldn't help but appreciate the naked skin, despite the strangeness of the situation. Remus climbed over him to get to the other side and slipped under the blanket, leaning against the headboard and staring into the dark room. Severus shuffled backwards to sit beside him and followed his gaze to where there was nothing to be seen, to where the moonlight didn't reach.

Remus sighed. "I haven't been able to sleep very well, lately," he said softly, but his voice sounded loud in the silent room. "I tried to pretend it was the stress, but I have to admit that it is something much more abstract. I don't want to go to sleep, it is a deliberate decision, every night, to stay awake so as not to be surprised by my fate when I wake up in the morning."

Severus looked at him, surprised. "I feel the same way," he said frankly. At least one frank confession tonight. "To be honest, I expect you to disappear any day now."

At that, Remus laughed. The sorrow seemed to have disappeared, and yet Severus knew that Remus's emotions were not that shallow and short-whiled. "I wouldn't just disappear, Severus," he said matter-of-factly, taking Severus's hand. "What I expect to happen is much simpler and much more obvious."

"And what would that be?" asked Severus, somewhat relieved that Remus was now officially moving away from love matters.

"I suspect that someday soon somebody will find out about my furry little problem and tell it to everybody who wants to listen," said Remus and Severus's heart sank again. "There are enough clues for somebody to eventually find out. Truth will turn into gruesome rumour and I'll be fired before you can even say 'werewolf'."

"Your 'furry little problem'?" asked Severus because he didn't know what else to say. He, too, had provided strong clues about Remus's condition, after all. And on purpose as well.

"James used to call it that," said Remus with a smile. "Anyway, I'll make sure to say goodbye to you before I am chased off the grounds by a mob of angry parents with torches and hayforks." He chuckled, but it sounded bitter.

"Why are you so sure that it will happen like that," said Severus with much less confidence than he had wanted to, "and that you'll have to leave if it does?"

"With so many people around me every single day, it is only a matter of time until somebody finds out," said Remus levelly, "it usually happens much sooner. And I think we both know I would have to leave. Not that I'd want to stay where everybody knows what I am …" Now Remus was outright bitter and that happened so rarely that it took Severus off guard.

"But," he said softly, "you are _here_."

Remus raised his eyebrows at him in surprise. Then realisation dawned on his face and he gave a vague smile. "Well, it's different with you," he said mildly. "You don't judge me because I'm a werewolf, you don't care – no, more than that – you accept me."

Severus didn't know what to say. Remus kept smiling at him, obviously glad to have been reminded at this very moment that Severus accepted him as he was, without saying things like "even though you are a werewolf" like other people would. Even Albus, McGonagall, and Flitwick had the tendency to protect Remus, to sympathise with him because of what he was. Remus didn't want that, he wanted to be treated like a normal man. Even though not even he accepted himself as he was. It seemed that Severus was the only one who gave Remus what he needed in that respect. From Severus, the word "werewolf" was usually an endearment, nothing more, nothing less. Remus shuffled closer and leaned against Severus's shoulder. He was warm. And Severus felt that Remus was pleased, as though he had received a tiny bit of what he had come here for.

"There isn't much I'm more afraid of than people finding out what I am," said Remus quietly, "but I'm trying not to let it interfere with the time I have with you. There's at least the knowledge that you will not look at me differently when the whole school finds out. You will not pity me or be disgusted or afraid or hateful or disappointed. You will look at me like you always do and that gives me a feeling of security in the midst of the constant anxious anticipation of being found out. The way you look at me has become my greatest treasure."

Severus wanted to know how he always looked at Remus but didn't dare ask. "You have guarded your secret for so long," he said instead, "and yet you came here, knowing full well that it would be uncovered at some point."

"I wanted to take a risk," Remus replied, "good things don't just come to you, you have to charge forward and take them."

"Brave like a true Gryffindor," mocked Severus, "who knows no fear."

But Remus shook his head. "Bravery isn't the absence of fear, but the overcoming thereof," he said with a smile. "So I overcame my fear – yes, like a true Gryffindor – and took a risk. And I received the best thing one can receive in exchange for risking my secret to be revealed."

"What did you get, then?" asked Severus and he knew the answer before it came.

"You," Remus said simply. "And all the pleasant things that come with you."

"You won't just disappear without a word, then?" asked Severus quietly, trying to sound nonchalant. "I can sleep without fearing that you might have gone in the morning?"

"Yes, I promise," Remus assured him with a chuckle. "And you will punish the person who spills my secret with due severity?"

"That is what I do best," Severus replied with mock self-satisfaction. And he silently swore to himself that whoever did this worst of things to Remus would pay dearly for it.

"I knew I could rely on you," said Remus with a yawn that was clearly supposed to signal that it was time to sleep now.

He laid down and Severus followed suit, shuffling close to Remus until their chests touched and Remus's nose was pressing into his cheek. It was warm and soothing, and Severus was sure that he would be able to sleep, after all. Their hearts were beating in time. Severus thought that he should have pointed that out to Remus. Remus would have liked that, surely. Surely it would have compensated him for the love declaration he had wanted to hear but not received. But Severus didn't said anything about their hearts, and he never would. He just enjoyed the pleasure it made him feel and knew that Remus felt it too. He convinced himself that words were overrated anyway and that anything of significance could be felt and needn't be spelled out. But then again, maybe that was just a coward's way of thinking.


	27. Lesson Twenty-Seven: Joie de Vivre

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: This is one of my favorites, and I changed it a lot from what it used to be in The Teacher. I think I like it because Remus and Severus have reached the peak of intimacy and familiarity here and Severus does not want to lose that. I think the nicest thing is that it starts with Severus doubting everything but it ends with something completely other that makes him forget his fear at last ... That is a significant contrast to how the story started and it kind of closes a circle, for me as well as for Remus :).

Also: hi there, Lee! First off: wow, thanks for that great review and all the praise. Reviews like yours remind me why I'm publishing this story instead of just confining it to my laptop. I'm just so happy that you like my story so much. You said there's more, so I hope you'll tell me more, because it makes me really happy to see people engaging in my story so much and appreciating all the thought and work I put into all the details :). Funnily enough I also started out being a SB/RL shipper, and I think you're right about SS/RL being the more mature ship because when I grew older I also shifted from one to the other. But I now like them as friends, Marauders, that's part of the reason why I included a Sirius-centric chapter in my fiction Journey, their friendship post-Azkaban fascinates me more than any romance between them could ...

Thanks again to all my reviewers, you keep me going :).

* * *

 **Lesson Twenty-Seven: Joie De Vivre**

It wasn't long now.

Severus opened his eyes in the dead of night. He was feeling uncomfortably warm, even though he was naked and the silk blanket was cool and barely covered him. He tried to take a deep breath, but it was shallow and uncomfortable. He could only just make out Remus's outline next to him. The rising and falling of Remus's chest looked like he, at least, had no trouble breathing at all. It really was insufferably hot. But when they had gone to bed it had been freezing cold.

Severus groaned. He had been ill for a week, and Remus had been very caring and patient, even though Severus was even more unpleasant than usual. Remus was hogging the blanket now. Severus sat up, straightened his back and tried again to take a deep breath, to no avail. He didn't know how he had even ended up without his nightshirt, he certainly was in no fit state to sleep with Remus, barely able to breathe, feeling sick, constantly dizzy – ah, yes, the dizziness was coming back. He must have shed the nightshirt unconsciously, half asleep. He was sweaty even though it must be cold. Wiping his forehead, he glanced at Remus. Amber eyes were gleaming in the scarce moonlight. He had woken up.

"You all right, dear?" he asked in a hoarse whisper, clearly exhausted. He had been kept awake a lot over the past week and Severus felt a little guilty. But most of all he felt, well, loved.

"Do I look all right?" Severus asked, but his voice was too flat to inject any spite into it. Remus made an effort to prop himself up on his elbow, passing a hand over his face before looking very closely at Severus. Which Severus didn't particularly like, especially in his current, sweaty, ill state. "Silly question, that," he added irritably.

"Nobody looks all right when they are ill," said Remus soberly. "But you insisted on teaching and pretending that everything was fine, so I'm not surprised that your health hasn't improved. You want to take some advice, next time, from somebody who is frequently ill, an expert, so to speak, on recovering."

"You are enjoying this," hissed Severus, laying back down as the dizziness overwhelmed him and the whole room appeared to start spinning.

"Of course not," said Remus, flinging an arm around Severus's waist and pressing against him. "I'm feeling with you. And you have me worrying because you won't just lie down for a few days to recuperate. But then, as you _never fall ill_ , of course you wouldn't know what is good for you."

Severus snorted. Remus was mocking him. And he had every right to do so. "Maybe 'never' was a slight overstatement," he admitted. "'Rarely' would have been more accurate." Then he felt Remus's hand running over his stomach, which was still slick with sweat. "Don't," he whispered, closing his eyes to feel less disoriented by the spinning room, "I'm drenched in sweat, that cannot be comfortable for you."

"I don't mind," said Remus, "you're warm."

"Hot, more like," growled Severus, but he didn't push Remus away. The werewolf's skin felt nicely cool against his. Severus pretended to hate being ill, but the truth was that he enjoyed returning to his quarters half-dead only to go straight to bed and be joined by Remus, who didn't care that he could catch Severus's illness as well, which was much more unpleasant to him than to Severus, considering that it was the week before the full moon. The truth was that Severus didn't want to recover, despite feeling miserable, because his illness meant that they spent more time together, curled up naked under the blanket, sharing body warmth, which Remus swore was the best cure for a fever. And Severus's fever had come back time and time again, because he was breathing in potion fumes for hours, prowling a freezing dungeon.

It wasn't long now.

He shook his head. Exam week was approaching. Actually it was a miracle that Remus was still by his side. That he hadn't been forced to leave yet. Every second was precious. Even when it was much too hot, disgustingly sweaty, and in a spinning room. And though he felt like he was going to be sick any moment, knowing that that relief would never come, he wished he could stop time right now.

Remus's embrace soothed his stomach and even the dizziness subsided after a while. Severus turned on his side and curled around Remus's body, feeling suddenly cold. He groped around for the blanket and pulled it over them both, freezing again. But he was comfortable now, with Remus so close. Who knew how often they would see each other once Remus wasn't at Hogwarts anymore. Who knew how often they would be able to be together like this.

"Do me a favour and stay in bed all weekend, dear," said Remus softly, his lips moving against Severus's forehead. Merlin, Severus would miss being called "dear". Wasn't that terribly pathetic? Would Remus like Severus to use endearments other than "werewolf", he wondered? "I'll take over your duties and promise to be especially strict."

"You don't have it in you to be strict," Severus mumbled, making Remus chuckle. Severus couldn't sleep, even when he listened to Remus's even breathing some time later. He was still awake when the first sunlight crept over the tree tops and fell into the bedroom, tumbling over the floor and climbing onto the bed, illuminating the green sheets covering Severus and Remus's bodies. Severus looked blearily at Remus, trying to make out every single feature and every single line on his face.

He leant in and kissed Remus's lips. The Wolfsbane of the night before was still faintly present on them. Severus's head was pounding with the effort of moving and his eyes hurt from the sunlight. At least he wasn't feeling dizzy anymore, but he didn't think that he could stomach a breakfast today. Or any meal. The weekend seemed like a chance for his illness to break out full force. He decided that he would obey Remus and stay in bed until he was recovered or until Monday, whichever came first. Surely, if he stayed in bed, his potions should help.

He rolled onto his back with a groan and pressed a hand to his forehead to stop his head from pounding. There was a blurry red mark on his forearm. He raised his arm to get a better look and realised that it was the Dark Mark. It was strangely distant, as though it had only just emerged on his arm and not been there for over fifteen years. Severus had long stopped hiding it from Remus, had long forgotten that it was even there. And when he did notice it, it was far away. It didn't matter. Who would have believed it? One didn't always stay a Death Eater forever, after all. It had taken a werewolf to prove it.

When he felt Remus's hand drawing circles on his chest, Severus looked around into those amber eyes. He was warm again now, but pleasantly so. The chills had left him. He pulled Remus closer to hold him for a while, skin to skin. Suddenly he felt as though he had never really cherished Remus. He knew that he had, but now nothing seemed enough. Exams would start on Monday, the last week of term, and Severus knew that Remus's departure was impending.

It wasn't long now.

"Do you need anything?" asked Remus into Severus's shoulder. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"Later," replied Severus and was suddenly very tired. "I need you to get me a potion. But not now."

"Would you like some breakfast?"

"I wouldn't want to ruin the carpet," said Severus. Remus didn't chuckle, but sat up, feeling Severus's forehead.

"Still feverish … I'll make tea, then," he said in a low voice. Severus hummed his agreement and before Remus had even left the bed, Severus had fallen asleep.

Monday came along far too quickly. Severus recovered by staying in bed and being force-fed potions that Remus had collected from the infirmary, pretending that he was the one who was ill. Nobody would believe it a lie, Remus did look ill around the full moon anyway, and even more so because he was strained from preparing for the exams and from sleeping very little due to Severus's illness. Severus didn't mind staying in bed, really, being treated to tea and toast while Remus was talking to him in that mild voice. He fell asleep frequently, exhausted from refusing to recover for so long, and one time when he woke, Remus had been to Hogsmeade and back and brought him licorice ravens, like he had in September after the infamous Boggart incident.

"Licorice is healthy," Remus had said, "it is natural medicine. It can't hurt."

And it hadn't. Remus's caring was rapidly curing Severus. Severus thought that he finally had an inkling why Remus recovered better when he looked after him. It was as though the mere wish to help chased illnesses away. And by Sunday evening, Severus could no longer pretend to be ill and in need of Remus's care, so he decided that he should use his regained strength in a way that would make Remus stay in bed with him. The dizziness he felt that night was not due to ill health but to the fact that his blood had better places to be than his head.

Severus woke early on Monday morning but refused to acknowledge it. He pulled the blanket more tightly around Remus and himself, curling desperately round Remus's back. He knew he had to get up for the second-years' Potions exam, but he just didn't find that more important than feeling Remus's skin against his. When the first voices could be heard like the buzzing of a beehive far away, Severus opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Remus's shoulder, and he pressed his lips to the warm skin, making the werewolf stir.

"Time to get up, is it?" Remus muttered sleepily, turning round to face Severus. "Breakfast?"

"What would you prefer," asked Severus, "breakfast or staying in bed until the last possible moment?"

"Well," said Remus hoarsely, letting his fingers ghost over Severus's lips, "I do like it here."

"Why ever would you like it here?" asked Severus. "I do realise that your rooms are full of Dark creatures, but down here it is colder and darker than upstairs."

Remus smiled one of those mischievous smiles. "You are colder and darker than other men," he purred, "and yet I would not exchange you for anyone."

Severus was taken aback for a moment, then he smiled. "How lucky I am that you are such a silly werewolf."

"Lucky for you that I love you," said Remus, and Severus knew he was right.

Remus brushed the hair out of Severus's face and kissed him. Needless to say that they did not have breakfast that morning. A much different hunger was satisfied when Remus pulled Severus against him. Funny how being sweaty could differ in pleasantness depending on how one had become so.

An hour later, however, Severus had exchanged Remus's skin for the rough fabric of his robes and was prowling his dungeon, supervising the second-years' exams. There was lots of opportunity to cheat today, for Severus's mind was still between the silk sheets with Remus. After Severus had collected all the potions from the second-years and sent them on their way, he filled a goblet with Wolfsbane and ascended the stairs to the Entrance Hall. There was no one there apart from a lonely werewolf, his hair disheveled, looking a little forlorn.

"Are you waiting for me?" asked Severus and Remus looked round, getting up from the plinth he had been sitting on.

"Not exactly," Remus replied, taking a few slow steps towards Severus, who was striding towards him. "I was in the kitchens to get something to eat and when I was on my way back I saw the second-years coming up from the dungeons, so I thought I might as well wait. Thank you," he added when Severus handed him the potion.

"Not at all," Severus replied, narrowing his eyes at Remus. He didn't seem nervous or worried, just his usual calm, nonchalant self. Remus downed the potion rather quickly, managed not to retch too much, and looked at Severus through watering eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," Severus said quietly, "just … that I am worried and you are not."

Remus knew what he meant. Of course he knew. He smiled slightly, cocked his head to the side, sighed. "Just one more week, Severus," he said softly, "I prefer to spend it with a positive mindset instead of succumbing to my worries."

Severus took the goblet back from him, cleaned it and put it in his pocket. "That is more easily said than done …" he said and knew that just a few months ago he would never have admitted to his emotions like he did now. It was a dangerous opening. But Remus would never use it to his advantage.

"How about I show you what I've planned for the third-years' exam?" Remus asked pleasantly, making for the front doors. Severus followed as if pulled along by an invisible chain. Distraction was perhaps what Severus needed. But he thought that his mind would be revolving around Remus all the time even if they were facing a lifetime together.

They walked across the grounds until they reached a place that had used to be plain grass once but was now covered in potholes, a paddling pool, a patch of marsh, and a packing case. Severus stared at it in confusion. "What on earth –?"

"It's an obstacle course!" cried Remus, appearing very pleased with himself and excited about his idea. "That is why I kept all the creatures. I'll have the third-years fight their way through the course."

"Sweet Merlin, have mercy," muttered Severus, covering his eyes with his hand. "Don't tell me you've been planning this all along?"

"Yes, I have," said Remus happily, "and I'm glad I'm still here to see it through. Of course I'll set my creatures free afterwards."

Severus glanced at him, unconvinced. "Of course you will," he said mockingly. But he had to admit, the idea of an obstacle course for an exam was new and interesting. Severus wished his own subject would allow for something similar. It would at least rid him of those dunderheads who couldn't even brew tea. "Do you need help bringing them here?"

"Very kind of you," said Remus with a warm smile and he took Severus's hand for a brief moment before they headed back to the castle.

The theoretical Defence OWLs were now over and the exhausted fifth-years shuffled out of the Great Hall when Remus and Severus entered the castle. When they caught sight of Remus, some of the students approached him to complain about the level of difficulty or to ask him if they had answered the questions correctly. Severus hovered behind Remus, watching him closely. Remus enjoyed every minute of it. And he had encouraging words for every last one of the students. Severus knew how much of an effort Remus had put into catching up with the syllabi of the past five years, that should actually have been covered by his predecessors, after noticing just how far behind the fifth-years were. He had wanted to make sure that his students knew at least those things that were sure to be tested. Severus had no doubt that he had succeeded.

When the fifth-years finally left for their common rooms, lunch had already been laid out in the Great Hall and Severus and Remus sat down together at the High Table, Severus listening patiently to Remus's assessment of how the students must have done. Remus could not eat after drinking the Wolfsbane – he had had a decent breakfast in the kitchens – so he talked while Severus ate. They earned some curious glances as they usually sat far apart at the table, an arrangement that had long bothered Severus, though he had once found it reasonable. Severus didn't care that people were looking at them, he wouldn't let anything stop him from using every second he could spend in Remus's presence.

It was lucky that only OWL and NEWT students were sitting their Defence exams this afternoon, leaving Severus and Remus the freedom to spend time with each other after such an intimate weekend spent mostly in bed. They strolled through the castle, ascending to the Astronomy Tower to be alone, as students were forbidden to be up here outside of Astronomy classes. They leaned on the battlements, shoulder to shoulder, looking out over the grounds. Severus only left for the third-year exam, from which he returned in rather a good mood for having given Potter zero points for his Confusing Concoction, which had been far too watery. When night fell, they descended into the main castle again to avoid the Astronomy OWL students and when Remus took the route towards his office, Severus didn't think much of it and simply followed him. But at the door Remus barred his way.

"Good night, then, Severus," he said firmly, with that finality in his voice that would make most people go away. But not Severus.

"Excuse me?" Severus said, narrowing his eyes at him.

Remus looked up and down the corridor to make sure that nobody was listening. "The full moon is close," he said quietly but did not elaborate why that was suddenly a problem.

"Not much closer than yesterday," Severus retorted, trying to push past Remus without success. "Last full moon you let me stay with you until the last day and now you won't let me in, even though it is only Monday and the full moon is on Thursday?"

"This time the wolf is stronger," said Remus and Severus saw him make a convulsive movement with his hand on the doorknob that looked like restraint. "This month I don't feel comfortable inviting you into my bed."

Severus scowled at him. His good mood evaporated. "Any other month you would have been able to convince me not to come in, but not tonight," he hissed. "Not this week. Now get out of my way!"

Remus hesitated and there was a foreign light in his eyes that Severus had seen before, but it had never been so intense. Remus licked his lips. He looked hungry. "You had better leave," he said evenly, and sounded rather unnaturally calm and monotonous. As though he was mustering his last self-control to say it. Severus considered him closely. Suddenly silver light fell through the window behind Severus's back, over his shoulder and on Remus's face. Remus flinched away from it and into Severus's shadow, then he fixed his eyes on Severus's face again and blinked hard as though to chase away a trick of the eye. His eyes looked a little clearer now.

"I shall not let you send me away," Severus said, determined to persuade Remus. "Let me in!"

Remus took a deep breath. "All right," he said, turning the knob and opening the door, but when Severus made to pass him, he stopped him with his arm. "At your own risk."

Severus snorted, pushing past Remus. "What are you going to do?" he asked mockingly. "Eat me alive?"

Remus closed the door behind him, wearing that strangely hungry look again. "Something like that," he said in a low voice that Severus was quite sure he had never heard before. Remus shook his head and rubbed his eyes when he noticed Severus's uncomfortable confusion. "Forgive me," he said hoarsely. "I'm not myself. Which is why I didn't want you to come in."

"I don't mind," said Severus quietly, remembering that Remus had once feared that he might be disgusted by his behaviour around the full moon. "It just put me off for a moment."

"I'll make an effort to –"

"Don't bother," said Severus, impatiently beckoning Remus closer. "No need to suppress it."

Remus looked curiously at him when he entered the sitting room and sat down on the sofa. Severus followed him, putting his hands on Remus's shoulders and kissing the top of his head, but Remus flinched as he had when the moonlight had touched him, only that now he could not hide in anyone's shadow. Severus made a questioning noise, walking round the sofa to sit down next to Remus. The werewolf didn't meet his eyes. For a few moments there was silence, then, when Severus touched Remus's shoulder, Remus got up quite abruptly.

"I'm going to bed," he said, perplexing Severus utterly.

"All right, then, let's go to bed," he said, getting up as well, and thought that Remus looked rather as though he had hoped that Severus would want to stay up a little longer.

Remus closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, then glanced at Severus, looking a little ill. He frowned and wiped his forehead. "All right, but …" he began but his voice failed him and he looked away just when that hungry light returned to his eyes. "Please be good enough not to touch me tonight."

"Why not?" asked Severus even though he knew he shouldn't. Remus had made a request and Severus should keep to it. But he just needed to know what was going on inside Remus.

Remus was careful not to touch him when he passed him on his way to the bedroom and he cleared his throat, refusing to look at Severus. "The feelings it evokes in me are sickening," he admitted and Severus stopped dead in the doorway of the bedroom, rather affronted. Remus didn't need to look at him to know that an elaboration was in order. "Maybe I should clarify that it is a sickening kind of enjoyment that you would not comprehend. It is a kind of overwhelming animal desire, a bit like hunger, and when you touch me I can barely contain it. So please don't. It is very uncomfortable for me to feel for you like that especially when you can see it."

Severus stood corrected and rather flattered, actually. "But you needn't suppress it," he said in confusion. "You can show it to me."

"But I don't want to," Remus almost snapped and it took Severus by surprise. "Sorry," said Remus, after taking another deep breath. "But you don't understand. It isn't me, it isn't what I usually feel."

And without another word or glance, he disappeared into the bathroom and slammed the door. Severus shook his head to himself, starting to unbutton his robes. No, he could not comprehend this, but he had to respect it. And it explained Remus's behaviour around past full moons, when Severus had comprehended all of this even less. When Severus closed his eyes that night, Remus was lying far away from him, almost falling off the edge of the bed. Severus had seen that hungry look directed at him when Remus had crawled into bed and he knew it wasn't normal. But he couldn't say that he minded. Remus said that the full moon strengthened emotions, made them uncontrollable, didn't create emotions that weren't there. So what was the fuss about?

In the morning, Remus was lying with his head on Severus's shoulder, as though nothing had happened, and Severus felt affirmed in thinking that Remus was probably exaggerating. When Remus woke, he first pressed up to Severus, then withdrew completely, bringing a distance between them. But he seemed to be much more himself again. They had breakfast in bed before they both dressed and left for their respective classrooms. Severus was pleased that Remus sat close to him against the headboard, and that he kissed him goodbye.

Over the course of the day, Remus seemed to find himself more and more and by the time he had taken his daily dose of Wolfsbane, there was almost no trace left of yesterday's episode. Severus was satisfied that it had apparently only been a passing symptom, but he was proven wrong that night. Remus tossed and turned all night, got out of bed to pace a bit only to lay back down and groan with insomnia. Severus barely slept. He woke every time Remus moved, even though the werewolf didn't touch him. Once or twice he tried to hold Remus by the arm and to embrace him, but the werewolf couldn't or wouldn't stay in bed or even in the same place for longer than a few seconds. After a while Severus gave up on it and just watched Remus's restless wandering with half-shut, sleepy eyes.

At eight in the morning, Severus was woken rather violently by the alarm clock. He felt as though he had only just fallen asleep, though he couldn't quite believe that he had slept at all. Remus was already sitting fully dressed beside him, looking rather ill again with his bloodshot eyes and pale face. Apparently he had not slept at all. Severus wondered if he looked like that, too.

"Sorry," said Remus hoarsely, "I kept you awake. But I didn't feel at home in my body last night."

"As if you could help it," Severus said and swung his legs out of bed. He rubbed his eyes and groaned. "It is odd how you sometimes feel worse than usual."

"Yes, well," said Remus, getting to his feet, "it is probably the anxiety."

Severus looked round at him. It was the first time that Remus openly admitted to feeling anxious. But it was evident now. At breakfast Remus was barely able to swallow and listlessly pushed his eggs around on the plate. It was clearly nausea, but Severus wasn't sure whether it was caused by the full moon or by the knowledge that the end of term was drawing mercilessly closer. Swallowing the Wolfsbane seemed to be an especially hard task that afternoon. Severus watched Remus warily but the werewolf managed the whole goblet in careful sips and smiled lopsidedly when he handed it back with his usual expression of badly contained disgust. And then, when Severus looked into Remus's amber eyes, he saw that foreign light in them flicker weakly and go out. As if the Potion had extinguished the wolf's flame inside of Remus.

But when they returned to Severus's rooms in the evening, the foreign light was back in Remus's eyes. The werewolf rejected Severus's affections, but Severus wouldn't let himself be rejected today. Only three more days before term ended. For all they knew, Remus could die, lose his memory, be arrested, or meet some other horrid fate any day now. Severus was too aware of that to simply let Remus push him away.

It wasn't long now, after all.

Remus allowed a chaste kiss when Severus insisted, then he gave him a look in between indignation and apology. There was a plea on his lips when Severus kissed them again, and he tried to push Severus away, returning the kiss at the same time. When they broke apart and Remus looked at him through half-lidded eyes, the foreign glint was clearer than ever and his jaw set. Remus didn't want to leave his body to the beast, act on the wolf's desires. But Severus would not just let it steal the time they had left, would not let it put up borders that couldn't be crossed. He accepted and embraced the wolf as part of Remus. He was the only one who could tame it.

"I can make you feel comfortable," whispered Severus and unfastened the clasps of Remus's robes. "Have some faith in me."

Remus's eyes widened and he gaped a little before yielding to Severus and sitting down on the bed. "I want to," he said softly, "but I've never –"

"It wasn't with me before," Severus cut in, unwilling to hear anything about former lovers. He shrugged off his robes and knelt down between Remus's knees. "You've never known anybody like me."

Remus smiled vaguely. "No, indeed," he said, "I haven't."

Severus unbuttoned Remus's shirt, pulled it down over his shoulders and kissed his collarbone. Remus didn't ask him to stop, but didn't actively participate, either, when Severus pushed him onto the mattress, climbing on top of him as he flicked his shirt out of the way to kiss a trail down his torso. Remus gave himself over to the trust he had in Severus and allowed it all. Severus half expected it to be different from usual. But they were Remus's gentle hands on his skin, Remus's legs sliding over his hips and Remus's lips kissing him. The foreign light in Remus's eyes was suffocated by their kisses and Remus's worries proved unfounded. And that night Remus didn't stir once in his peaceful sleep.

When the first rays of the sun broke through the curtains, Remus's hair was splayed over Severus's chest and their legs were loosely entangled, sticking out from under the blanket. Remus was embracing Severus, pressing his cheek against Severus's sternum and breathing evenly. But Severus knew he was awake. No need to acknowledge it. The last exam day had started.

"Would you like to tell me how Harry did in his Potions exam, my dear?" asked Remus quietly. He didn't sound sleepy anymore, so he must have been awake for quite a while. Severus snorted.

"With pleasure," he replied silkily. "I always like to talk about Potter achieving zero points."

" _Severus_ ," scolded Remus but he couldn't suppress a chuckle. "What was wrong with his potion, then?"

"I'm afraid you would not understand the complex and subtle matters that I have to take into account when marking –"

"It was too pale," Remus guessed, rudely interrupting Severus.

"No," said Severus smoothly. "Too watery."

"Is that all?" asked Remus, not once raising his head off Severus's chest. Perhaps Severus's heartbeat was giving him away, for after a moment's silence Remus sighed. "Do I really have to point out to you that you must let him pass?"

"The potion would only cause slight disorientation instead of strong confusion," said Severus defiantly, "because he added the scurvy grass too soon and stirred too fast."

"Let him pass, Severus," repeated Remus calmly. Severus didn't reply but he knew that he would have to comply.

He let his fingers caress the back of Remus's neck, just below the hairline, and his eyes narrowed as he thought of all the things Remus had to go through just before the full moon. All the things he was made to feel. He was curious. And since he couldn't witness the transformation, he at least wanted Remus to tell him what it was like to be a werewolf.

"I have been wondering," he said softly, threading his fingers slowly through Remus's greying hair, "how exactly do you feel the presence of the wolf so close to the full moon? Is it a voice?"

Remus almost laughed. "No, no," he said quietly, "I don't hear voices. It is rather like a Dark presence inside me that warps and intensifies my emotions until they are completely alien and uncontrollable. There are werewolves who embrace that state, but not me. It is as though there were two spirits residing in my body, one feeding on the other. That is why it is so vital for me to control myself, so that it doesn't overpower me. It terrifies me to lose control. Even though I know that it can't be prevented sometimes, I am always afraid that that other spirit will take advantage of it."

Severus tried to imagine this and likened it to the situation he'd been in as a spy, always afraid to lose control of his emotions, lest his Occlumency failed him and the Dark Lord would see his thoughts. But of course he could not truly compare the two. Then he thought of Greyback and the other werewolves he had met when the Dark Lord had been in power. They had not seemed to be struggling with the wolf like Remus was, it hadn't appeared as though they were fighting a parasitic growth inside them.

"You are speaking for yourself only, aren't you?" he asked curiously. "The werewolves I know –"

"Will have belonged to the kind that embrace the wolf," Remus supplied, finally sitting up now and sighing as he stretched. "There are no two spirits in them," he continued seriously, "they have merged with that Dark presence and have accepted it as a part of themselves. Greyback for instance is neither human nor wolf. There is no difference between him and the wolf. I am different. The bite didn't change me, but it made me prone to outbreaks of strong emotions. My father taught me to separate myself from the wolf very early on to be able to control myself around the full moon, master the wolf, and thus conceal what I was. I've told you that I sometimes take time alone to unweave myself from the wolf. Greyback never did that. He has mingled so completely with it that there is no telling them apart. I, on the other hand, can feel when it is not myself that wants or needs something and when my feelings are influenced by the wolf, like normal anger being fueled to become violent fury. That is why it was so sickening to me when I desired you the other day. It was the way the wolf warped that desire to become slavering hunger." He paused and looked round at Severus. "Do you understand?" he asked patiently and Severus nodded.

This time he understood. Control was important to Remus, that much had always been clear to Severus. But some situations were too hard to bear, even for him. And it was rather painful to look at when Remus Lupin lost control. It was as if the world were about to end.

"But last night," Severus began hesitantly, remembering what Remus had said to him a few months ago, "I did not coerce you into doing something you didn't want, did I?"

Remus smiled mildly. "No," he said reassuringly and took Severus's hand. "Though you told me that you didn't mind how the wolf influences me, I was afraid that being close to you would make it worse. But to my surprise the contrary was the case. There's something about you that puts me back to normal." He stopped and chuckled and sounded quite pleased. "So, in a way, you have found a cure for my lycanthropy."

This made Severus smile.

After a short breakfast, they parted ways to oversee their respective exams. It wasn't until Severus returned to his quarters after the first exam of the day that he saw Remus again, from the sitting-room window, walking along the edge of the lake with a large glass tank floating by his side. Severus watched him curiously, when Remus stopped, rolled up his sleeves, and disappeared behind some especially high reed. Severus decided to go after him.

When he arrived where Remus had disappeared, Severus glanced round the reed and saw the tank that contained the Grindylow and had been its home for months, then he caught sight of Remus, who had discarded his teaching robes, shoes and socks, rolled up his trousers and was now wading in the shallow water, searching for Merlin knew what among the reed. It was a funny sight that made Severus smirk. Though the cloudy water didn't yield a clear view of anything much, Severus could see that Remus was in his element and thoroughly enjoying himself. Severus wondered whether he could ever enjoy himself so easily.

"What are you doing?" he asked and Remus, who had been carding his fingers through the water, straightened up and looked at him over his shoulder. He gave Severus a crooked smile.

"Looking for the Grindylow population," he replied. "I want to set him free, now that I don't need him anymore. Least thing I can do, even if I have a heavy heart when I think about parting with him. He's not for living in captivity." Having said that, he turned back to his task with a thoughtful frown. "Last time I checked, they were somewhere round here, but they just won't show themselves today. Ah!"

Severus stepped quickly forward and caught Remus's arm as he stumbled, probably having got stuck in the mud. "Careful!" he said, steadying Remus until he had regained his balance. Remus thanked him with a smile and went back to feeling his way around the water. "What about the others?" Severus asked. "The Redcap, the Hinkypunk, and the Kappa?"

"I've already sent the Kappa back to Japan," said Remus levelly and Severus saw that there was some sort of pain etched into his features when he thought about his companions leaving him. "As for the Hinkypunk and the Redcap, I will drop them off in a nice marsh and at Culloden respectively on my way back home. I want them to have good lives after all the stress I put them through."

Severus's breath hitched when Remus uttered the words "on my way home". But of course, all of them had to go home soon. "Good," he said quietly, watching Remus walk further out into the lake to the edge of the shallows, where the water became dark and deep. "You are doing the right thing."

"I know, I know," said Remus flatly and Severus regretted having spoiled his enjoyment. Then Remus suddenly stopped and straightened up again. "Can you save me, please?" he asked in amusement, reaching out a hand to Severus. "I'm stuck and sinking."

Severus rolled his eyes but obligingly stepped to the edge of the water, stretching out his arm until he could take Remus's hand and pull. But to no effect. Remus held onto Severus's arm with both hands and tried to free himself, in vain. He looked up at Severus with an apologetic smile. Severus stepped into the water, clicking his tongue in indignation. "What's this?" he growled, grasping Remus's arms.

"Something's got me," Remus observed quite calmly and when Severus pulled again, they both lost their footing because there was someone – no – something else pulling on Remus. They overbalanced before Severus could react and they fell headfirst into the lake, taking a mouth and noseful of muddy water. Sinking rapidly due to his heavy robes that were soaked now, Severus forced his eyes open, looking round for Remus, and saw nothing more than his silhouette in the cloudy water below him. But it was clear that Remus was trying to throw off two Grindylows that were holding firmly onto his ankles and pulling him deeper into the lake. Remus had no wand on him, he had left it in his teaching robes. Severus kicked the water to stop his descent and plunged his hand into his floating robes to pull out his wand, point it at the Grindylows, and break their grip. The creatures were thrown back into a thicket of algae and Remus, gasping as he was running out of air, reached out a hand to Severus to be pulled to the surface and dragged out of the water as soon as Severus had slippery ground under his feet again. It cost Severus an enormous effort to get both their heads out of the water before running out of air himself, owing mostly to the increased weight of his wet robes which were also dangerously in the way.

When he crawled back to the bank, he hugged Remus to his chest, spitting out the brown water he had managed not to swallow while Remus was sputtering and coughing and fighting for air. He couldn't see much as his hair was sticking to his face, but he could feel that Remus was alive, and though he must have breathed in some water, he was fine. When Remus stopped coughing, his breathing still ragged, he leant back against Severus, his heartbeat hammering just like Severus's. Severus felt a bit like a moron now, kneeling in the muddy water, soaked, disheveled and dirty. He rested his chin on Remus's shoulder and swore under his breath. He shook Remus to relieve his tension and the insolent werewolf chuckled. But he was right to laugh. They must look completely ridiculous.

"That was stupid of me," said Remus and his voice shook a little. So even he had been at least a little afraid. Severus felt less silly. "Could have died of stupidity there. Not having my wand on me when looking for Grindylows in the water."

Severus was silent at first, smoothing his hair back, out of his face. Then he sat back to take a look at Remus, who was still pale with shock. It was safe to say what was on his mind, then. "For a moment there I thought that that was it," Severus admitted softly, "that the curse had chosen that very moment to strike and kill you."

Remus nodded at once. "Me, too," he said and sounded slightly choked. "And if it hadn't been for you …" He trailed off and started picking algae off his robes.

Severus's heartbeat was still unpleasantly fast, pounding in his throat, and he saw that Remus's was, too, right there in his jugular. Thinking that Remus could now be lying dead at the bottom of the lake was chilling and it made him pull Remus close again and hold him tightly, pressing him to his chest so Remus would feel the heart he had panicked. Remus pressed his face into Severus's shoulder and took a few deep breaths.

"I thought I had everything under control," he said, his voice muffled. "But then I noticed that my wand wasn't there, and I thought I was done for." He paused and Severus said nothing. He, too, had thought for a moment that his worst fear had come true. "Thank you for not letting me drown."

"I couldn't," said Severus matter-of-factly, "it would only have looked like a very poor assassination attempt. Nobody would have believed the ridiculous truth that we were surprised by a Grindylow colony that you were actually looking for."

That remark had the desired effect: Remus started laughing. And it was contagious. As Remus wiped his eyes and smeared even more mud across his face than had already been there, Severus, too, was overpowered by the hilarity of the situation. Severus Snape burst out laughing like he had never laughed before and it was so liberating that soon he had forgotten that there had been any real danger at all and that he had thought that Remus was going to die. Remus was a little startled at first and even to Severus's ears his own laughter sounded odd, but neither of them could stop. This time it wasn't water that was preventing that they breathe, but laughter. They just laughed, and Severus pressed a kiss to Remus's wet temple. He wasn't sure if they were both merely laughing away the fear in their bones or if their laughter was a defiant defence against the curse that was after Remus's life, but it didn't matter either way.

Suddenly Remus was kissing his lips with some fervour, capturing that laughter like Severus had done with his so many times. The kiss tasted earthy and mouldy and Severus was sure that there was sand in their mouths. When they broke apart, Severus's laughter had still not died, and when they were trying to get out of the water, throwing each other over in clumsy attempts to help each other, weakened by the whole adventure, they fell into the dry sand and grass, breathless and soaked to the bones.

Severus smoothed back Remus's wet hair and when the laughter finally subsided, it left a pleasant smile on his face. "On the bright side," he said, "you have found the Grindylows."

"On the bright side," sighed Remus, tracing Severus's jaw, "I can leave without regrets, now that I have heard you laugh."

"What are you saying, you dunderhead?" said Severus with a confused chuckle in his voice that he hadn't even known he had in him.

"Never mind," sighed Remus, running a hand through Severus's hair. "Just feeling dizzy from almost drowning. You did save my life, after all."

"I saved you?" muttered Severus and knew somehow that there was more to that statement than just the obvious meaning. When Remus nodded, Severus laid his head on the werewolf's damp chest to listen to his heartbeat and convince himself of his heroic deed. And time seemed to stop, even for the Grindylow in his tank.


	28. Lesson Twenty-Eight: Star-crossed

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: This was probably the hardest chapter to write. But it had to be done.

Hey Watter213, thanks so much for the compliment, I'm glad you like the story so much! I realise it can be seen as dragging along, it's just that I like stories that progress slowly, because everything seems to be so fast paced nowadays and I can't see Sev and Remus rushing things, and your absolutely right, the focus is on their personal journey :).

* * *

 **Lesson Twenty-Eight: Star-crossed**

Later that last exam day, after setting free the pet Grindylow and dismantling the obstacle course, Severus and Remus parted ways again, dried by magic but still somewhat clingy as they walked towards the castle. Their adventure had done something to them. Maybe made them more aware that any moment could be their last together. After the last exam of the school year, Severus left his dungeon to fill a goblet with Wolfsbane. As he spotted something lying on the sitting-room floor, he set the goblet down on the mantelpiece and went to pick it up.

It was the mysterious parchment Remus had confiscated from Potter. He must have lost it last night. For a moment Severus thought about burning it. But that was no good. So he put it into his pocket to give it back to Remus later. Since they had agreed to meet for dinner in Remus's rooms, Severus absentmindedly threw some Floo Powder into the fireplace and stepped into the erupting flames. When he arrived in Remus's sitting room, the coffee table had already been laid by a house-elf and Remus was lounging in his armchair, waiting, with only his Redcap and his Hinkypunk as company.

"So, that's it," said Remus as Severus sat down on the sofa. "Our last day is over."

"No," said Severus quietly. "We still have tomorrow. And many days to follow that."

Remus smiled silently. "Perhaps," he said. "Perhaps not."

Silence fell between them and they used it to eat so that it wouldn't feel so heavy. The sky was cloudy and the setting sun made it look as if it were covered by a bloody duvet. Severus kept glancing at Remus, who reached out a hand after a while to take Severus's and hold it. With his other hand, Severus pulled the parchment out of his robes and laid it on the table without a word. Remus didn't touch it.

"Thank you," he said simply. "Thought I'd lost it."

"Not at all," said Severus and felt a strange kind of foreboding overcoming him. He shook it off. "Hagrid's hippogriff is going to be executed tonight."

"Yes, poor thing, I saw the executioner – what's his name …" said Remus, his brows knitting, his hold on Severus's hand tightening.

"Macnair," supplied Severus, and when Remus looked at him, he added, "a fellow Death Eater."

"That so?" asked Remus but didn't comment further. Severus was grateful. He had feared that Remus would say something like "I thought so", but no. Instead he smiled again and squeezed Severus's hand. "Would you like to help me pack tomorrow?" he asked and didn't sound at all concerned. "I'd like to spend the remainder of my time at Hogwarts entirely in your presence. Make plans for the summer, and how to go on from here … if you want to."

His smile was almost sad and almost confident. As though he couldn't decide whether to believe in the continuation of their relationship or not. But Severus, who had never had plans for the summer, found it an intriguing and alluring prospect. And he chose to believe. For the first time in weeks, he could breathe freely as he thought about spending his usually lonely summer with Remus. Who cared that Remus had to leave? Severus could see him whenever he wanted, even if Remus didn't have the opportunity to teach anymore. It was better than going back to their respective loneliness, wasn't it?

"Yes, I would like that very much," said Severus just as the sun was disappearing behind the trees of the Forbidden Forest. Remus looked out of the window and got up, smiling more sincerely at Severus now. Severus understood that he was supposed to leave. "And you are sure that you do not want me to stay tonight?" he asked tentatively but Remus nodded even before Severus had finished his sentence.

"Quite sure," he said, stepping towards Severus. "Thank you."

Severus leant in to kiss him and smelled the mouldy scent of the muddy water on Remus. When they broke apart, he picked a tiny sprig of algae from Remus's hair. And smiled. "I shall check in on you early tomorrow morning."

Remus nodded but his brow was creased as he smiled. "I love you, Severus," he said softly.

As usual, Severus did not reply but lowered his eyes and broke away from Remus to approach the fireplace. He took some Floo Powder and looked back at Remus, who had taken the old parchment into his hands and was looking after him with some regret. "Do have a good night," said Severus quietly and felt guilty sadness welling up in him as Remus nodded, brow still creased and lips twitching with something much different from mirth. Remus didn't watch him leave but turned to enter his office instead. Severus sighed and stepped through the fireplace.

Back in his rooms, he tried to distract himself from this less than ideal ending to a perfect day by gathering together the exam papers he had to mark, wasting at least five minutes by searching for a list that he had been holding in his hand all the time. He felt horrible. He should have said something. It was infuriating. Why did it always strike him dumb when Remus confessed his love. Hadn't today's events shown him that he had better take a leap of faith and offer at least some kind of reply instead of the usual silence Remus must already be tired of? In his frustration, he slumped down on the sofa, wondering how he could make up for that. And wondering if Remus still expected a reply or if he had finally accepted that Severus did not feel for him what he felt for Severus. Then, by mere chance, Severus noticed something on the mantelpiece. He sprang to his feet and hurried to see if it was really true. It was. The goblet with now cold Wolfsbane was standing untouched on the mantel, had not found its way to Remus's lips today.

Suddenly freezing cold with shock, Severus ran to the cauldron with Wolfsbane, that was still simmering over a low flame, and filled the goblet with the spare dose that he always brewed, then he hurried out of his rooms into the narrow staircase that led to the Entrance Hall and ran as though his life depended on it. On his way upstairs, Severus heard hurried steps flying over the marble floor, heard the front doors of the Entrance Hall open and fall shut again. Severus suspected that it was Potter hurrying to Hagrid's aid as if the half-giant were a damsel in distress, but he chose to disregard this for Remus's sake. It wouldn't do to let him lose his mind and destroy his office. Not now, when the end of term was so close. Severus did have a responsibility to care for him … yes, care for him.

But when he reached Remus's office, out of breath, wrenching open the door, it was deserted, and so were Remus's rooms when Severus searched them. The moon wasn't up yet, so Remus could not possibly have escaped in wolf form. At a loss for what to do, Severus sat down behind Remus's desk to calm himself and think, setting down the goblet on some kind of map that was spread out on the desk.

Severus startled. A map? He smoothed it out and looked at it. It was a map of Hogwarts and the grounds, with several paths leading off it, probably secret passageways into Hogsmeade, just as Severus had suspected. And yes, there it was, a passageway leading from the one-eyed witch off the map. Indeed, that passageway could have been used by both Black and Potter.

What did it all mean? Why had Remus hidden this from him? Was it to protect the boy, or rather to protect himself? Or was there more to it than that? Severus's heartbeat quickened again. There were dots labeled with names. His own name was correctly labeling a dot in Remus's office, Dumbledore's dot was pacing in his own office. But where was Remus? Severus's mind was alert now. If he found Remus, it wasn't yet too late for him to drink the Potion. He searched the map … There! Beyond the Whomping Willow in the passageway where Severus would almost have lost his life once, if he hadn't been dragged out of it by James bloody Potter.

Severus straightened up and took a few deep breaths. What had he seen on the map that had made him leave so hurriedly and imprudently even though the full moon was about to rise? And then Remus's dot was out of sight as if it had fallen off the edge. The Shrieking Shack was his destination. A place where nobody went, a place whose background was only known to Dumbledore, Remus, Severus, and … Severus's breath hitched. It must be so. Why else would Remus be on his way to that secret place now? He must be meeting an old friend there.

Severus felt dreadfully cold. It all made painful sense now. But it couldn't be! It mustn't! He didn't want to admit that fear was welling up inside him, so he crushed it with anger, kicking the chair out of the way as he strode round the table. He wanted Remus to explain, to look him in the eye and say that he had never lied, never betrayed him. That he was his. That everything was fine. Severus wanted to believe it and seal it with a kiss. He wanted to see Remus. Now.

And as he was storming out, Severus didn't even notice that he had left the faintly smoking goblet of liquid security behind on the desk, illuminated by the very last ray of the setting sun before it disappeared behind the trees and darkness fell over the castle and grounds.

Severus lost track of time, running as fast as he could, back down the stairs and through corridors that hadn't seemed so long last time he had passed through them, taking all the shortcuts he could think of until he skidded to a halt in the Entrance Hall to wrench open the front doors and start running again, jumping down the stone steps, slipping on the grass as he headed for the Whomping Willow. He had no idea how long it had taken him to arrive here, but it felt like centuries. Standing breathlessly out of reach of the beating branches, his eyes scanned the ground for something to still the tree with. He was startled by something glittering in the grass and picked it up. It was an invisibility cloak. Potter's Invisibility Cloak. The boy must have lost it, but how? Severus glanced at the tree. Should he be so lucky?

Reaching for a broken branch on the ground, Severus picked it up and prodded the knot on the Willow's trunk to freeze it. Then he put on the Cloak and headed for the tunnel, sliding into it like he had done twenty years ago. He would never have thought that he would set foot in it again. Not being fifteen anymore, he had to double over so as not to hit his head when he walked along the path and he heard his heart hammering in his ears. He didn't hurry. Now that he was here, he dreaded what was awaiting him at the end of the tunnel.

Twice, Severus was only a moment away from turning on his heel to return to the castle and pretend that nothing had happened. But he couldn't. He needed to know what was going on. It felt as though he must die if he didn't find out. How could he ever look into Remus's eyes again without wondering if his feelings were really sincere if he didn't? His hands were shaking when they touched the ground. He crawled up the steep end of the passageway on all fours, approaching the opening that led into the Shack. He was cold with what was undeniable fear now. Though it must have taken him ages to arrive here, it was too soon. He was unprepared. But he would still have been unprepared if it had taken him a hundred years to arrive here. It was now or never. He pulled himself up through the opening onto dusty floorboards.

There were tracks in the thick layer of dust that told of other people having arrived before Severus. There were more tracks than there should be but it didn't startle him, he was too focused on why he had come to be startled by anything. He looked around. There was nobody there. The room he was standing in was disordered, the windows boarded-up, the furniture destroyed two decades ago by a raging werewolf and the floor stained in the darkened blood of the selfsame werewolf, who had injured himself in his desperate search for a victim. Severus stared at the floor for a few transfixed moments, feeling a pain that wasn't his own, haunting this building and filling him up to tell of the agony that had visited these walls once a month for seven years. Forcing himself to focus again, he followed the tracks on the floor that led to a door on the right. Severus adjusted the Invisibility Cloak and made for the hallway, drawing his wand.

The tracks continued up the stairs and now Severus could hear muffled voices and the creaking of floorboards overhead. As he silently ascended the stairs, he wondered whom he would find up there. He reached the landing and followed the voices to one of the doors. He strained his ears. He could now distinguish the voices. One was Granger's – so the children were here, too, and must have lost the Invisibility Cloak – and then Severus's heart skipped a beat as he heard Remus's voice. There was a short exchange between the two and Severus crept closer to the door. He heard the croaking of a voice that could only belong to a person who hadn't spoken in a very long time.

But Severus couldn't hear what was being said and in his angry confusion and his desperate need to know what was going on he simply pushed open the door, causing a creaking that attracted the attention of everybody in the room and all faces turned to where he was standing. He stopped dead, bated his breath, and hoped against hope that this bloody Cloak really worked and covered him completely. Remus had turned towards him and was now literally looking right through him. Then, very suddenly he strode towards the door and Severus had to jump noiselessly out of the way to avoid a collision. The dangers of being invisible.

Remus looked out into the landing. "No one there …"

Pressing his back against the wall, Severus tried to make no noise whatsoever. He took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes, losing track of the conversation about the truth behind the haunted Shrieking Shack. Then he looked up again, looking around to find Potter, Granger, and Weasley in the room with Remus. He fixed his eyes on Remus, who still seemed preoccupied with the strange behaviour of the supposedly inanimate door.

Severus's hammering heart and the rushing of his blood in his ears made him dizzy and blocked out everything else and he could not even hear Remus's voice, but he watched his lips and jaw moving and found the small scar that he liked to touch. He hoped that this was all just a bad dream, that he would wake up beside Remus any minute, but it didn't happen. He gripped his wand so hard it hurt. He could read single words on Remus's lips. Wolfsbane, Dumbledore, Animagi. But they meant nothing to him. He didn't care about the past. All the while, Severus only hoped for an explanation of all this, something he could accept and live with. Beneath his anger he was still trying to make himself believe that there was a good reason for Remus's presence here. But then Severus heard that croaking voice again, coming from the darkest corner of the room and finally his suspicions were confirmed.

"Hurry up, Remus," snarled Sirius Black and it sounded as though he had never been out of touch with his old friend. As though treachery, a mass murder, and twelve years of prison weren't standing between them.

Severus had not noticed him in the room before and was now startled into such a massive hatred that he wanted to jump at Black's throat for addressing Remus. At the very least, Severus could take some satisfaction in Black's appearance: he was no longer handsome as he had used to be, but looked even worse than the photographs in the _Daily Prophet_. His looks had been destroyed by Azkaban, he was dirty, broken, and ugly. He had an almost dead look about him that was only intensified by his sunken eyes, which were fixed on Weasley.

"I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there …" replied Remus with a familiarity in his voice that one would use to address a dear friend.

Severus's heartbeat slowed very suddenly. So that was it. Remus had helped Black all this time, not only by concealing Black's ability to transform into an animal but also by hiding the existence of the secret passageways in and out of the castle that had enabled Black to break into Hogwarts. What a fool Severus had been! How shameful that he had let himself be seduced by Remus. He felt a violent pain in his chest. It didn't even matter if Remus told the truth now, it was much too late for the truth. The fact that Remus was standing here was proof of the stark truth that he had betrayed Severus. He had dealt Severus an injury beyond compare, had used him horridly. And now as the befuddlement that Remus had induced in him with his silly love confessions subsided, Severus's mind was clear enough to take in what was happening here. Remus's loyalty lay with Black.

He had not felt a hatred so strong in a very long time. He was freezing, barely catching a word that was being spoken as his eyes darted between all five people in the room. His mind was racing. Why hadn't he just burned the bloody map? Remus would never have come here tonight. Severus would never have found out what was really going on between him and Black. He could have gone on believing that he was the one for Remus, the one that one only met once in a blue moon. But as agonising shame welled up inside him, he realised that that was not him, but Black. It must be. What other explanation was there? The past year had not merely been an elaborate prank, it had been a cunning game. Remus's presence here proved it.

As Severus's name was mentioned, he noticed that he had been staring at Remus, willing him to turn on Black and arrest him, proving Severus's thoughts wrong. But on the contrary. Remus told of their school days now, about the prank Black had played on Severus, that Severus had been jealous of James Potter – jealous! – and all the while he called him Snape, which he had never, to Severus's knowledge, done before. He had even gone out of his way to call Severus by his first name whenever he could, be it in Severus's presence or otherwise. It was as though, by calling Severus by his surname, he discarded everything that they had shared. It was so void of feeling and respect that Severus felt transferred back to a time when he had hated Remus and when he had not mattered to Remus. It must have been at school that Remus had last called him Snape. Remus had insisted that he had changed and he had fooled Severus effectively. Severus's instincts had been right, he had noticed it in Remus often enough – the mischievous air of a mature prankster. All the lies and seductions had served to play the game that Remus had thought up to protect his true partner.

How could Severus have been so blind? It was so obvious now, in the relief in Remus's eyes when he looked at Black, in the familiarity of their interaction and the mildness of Remus's voice when addressing that murderer. How could Severus have been fool enough not to notice that Remus's so-called affection for him was just a hoax? Perhaps he had been too inexperienced to notice the difference between truth and lie, maybe Remus was just too good a liar, or more likely Severus had simply not wanted to see the truth. Had felt too good about himself, had enjoyed it too much. Remus had certainly played his part well. He had deceived the master of deception himself.

The shame was almost unbearable. Severus had been gullible and reckless. He should have known better than to invest delicate feelings and valuable trust in a man like Remus, who could talk himself out of anything, who had to keep the darkest of secrets from everybody and was used to lying even to his best friends. And hadn't it been evident that he would do anything not to lose his dearest friends? Even if it meant keeping Severus close, pretending to love him, even sleeping with him. Severus had only been a tool to him, after all, like to everybody else. Nobody cared about him. Severus had thought that Remus was different, but this man standing before him, this couldn't be the man Severus had spent so much time with. Or maybe that man hadn't really been Remus, had never truly existed.

There was a constricting pain in Severus's chest. He had never felt so humiliated in his life. So disappointed. What had he ever done to Remus to deserve this? Hadn't he always treated him well? This couldn't possibly be his own fault! All the times he had thought that he wasn't good enough for Remus … what irony! He was breathing heavily now, loud enough for anyone to hear, but everybody's attention was still fixed raptly on Remus, who had just told them that Severus had known what he was since glimpsing him here in this Shack all those years ago. But Severus had only just discovered what Remus truly was. Hatred was boiling higher than ever inside him. He could finally see clearly now. Everything suddenly made sense. Treachery was a werewolf trait, after all.

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you," said Potter slowly, "because he thought you were in on the joke?"

Severus took that as his cue. There was nothing left to listen to. All was clear. He pulled the Invisibility Cloak off of himself, pointing his wand not at Black but straight at Remus, crushing all second thoughts inside him. "That's right," he said sneering, though he had long learnt the truth, or what Remus would have him believe to be the truth. Tonight there was a new wrong that Remus had done him. A new joke at Severus's expense.

As he revealed himself, Granger screamed, in the corners of Severus's eyes Black leapt to his feet and Potter started violently. Remus, on the other hand, turned calmly towards him, looking placidly into Severus's eyes as though he had known all along that Severus was there. As though he knew that everything was over now, no matter what he did. Severus wished he would say something, anything. He wished that Remus would say that he had only been making Black believe that he was still his friend to buy time until Severus came to save him and the children. But he said nothing. He just gazed at Severus with those placid amber eyes that gave away no emotion. It drove Severus mad. He wished he had trusted his instincts more than his feelings. Black was the one Remus cared about, for whom he would do anything, not Severus. In the end, Severus was the one who had revealed most about himself and Remus was the one who had hidden his true self. And now Severus wished he had not believed Remus in the first place and just continued to hate him from a safety distance. He wished he hadn't followed Remus here.

"I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," Severus said and dropped the Cloak on the floor, keeping his wand mere inches from Remus's chest. "Very useful, Potter, I thank you … You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here? I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your Potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did … lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."

He was talking to Remus only. This was between the two of them. At that very moment, Severus couldn't have cared less if the rest of them had run away, as long as he had a hold on Remus, the only hold he had on him. He wanted to look him in the eye and find the lies he had mistaken for love so many times, and he wanted to punish him for them.

"Severus –" Remus began, but it only angered Severus to hear his name from Remus's mouth, used like a sedative for a raving patient.

"I've told the Headmaster again and again that you've been helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof," Severus cut across him. He relished using the power he had over Remus now, having him at his mercy and watching him lose patience, even grow agitated. He wanted to control Remus like Remus had controlled him. "Not even I dreamt you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout –"

"Severus, you're making a mistake," said Remus in an urgent voice. "You haven't heard everything – I can explain – Sirius is not here to kill Harry –"

But Severus didn't care for another cock-and-bull story. Even the truth would be coming too late. If Remus was so determined to jump to Black's aid, he would have to pay the price and keep him company where he was going.

"Two more for Azkaban tonight," said Severus, hatred pulsing through him and laying words in his mouth that he had never thought he would say to Remus – but tonight all that they had said and that Severus had felt had been rendered worthless and no promise could bind Severus after what Remus had just proved to be. Remus deserved every last cruel word Severus could muster. "I should be interested in how Dumbledore takes this … he was quite convinced you were harmless, Lupin … a _tame_ werewolf."

As soon as he had uttered those last words, Severus felt as though his stomach had been filled with ice. Remus's expression changed, became as cold as Severus felt, and Severus knew he had crossed a line he had vowed never to cross. But what did that matter now? As things stood, what they had shared had never meant anything to Remus anyway and if Severus could pay him back the pain he had dealt him tonight, any means was fair. Or so he told himself as he stood freezing under Remus's icy gaze.

"You fool," said Remus in an equally icy voice that stung in Severus's ears, "is a schoolboy grudge enough to put an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"

The last straw had fallen.

BANG!

Severus shot ropes from his wand too fast for Remus to react in time to defend himself. They wrapped themselves round Remus's ankles, wrists, and mouth and he overbalanced and crashed to the floor. Emotional pain wasn't enough anymore, sickening satisfaction filled Severus when he saw that physical pain had joined it. He wanted to erase all those days and nights that he had touched Remus with tenderness. He wanted all that was left in Remus's mind when he thought about Severus to be terrible suffering. As terrible as Severus's own was tonight.

Calling Severus a fool had been Remus's last mistake. Severus would not let him deal any more damage. He was the fool if he really thought that this was all about a school boy grudge, if he thought he could talk to Severus like that right now! He was the one lying bound on the floor, not Black. But Remus didn't care, did he? The play had come to an end and the lead actor had grown weary of his role. There was no need to make Severus believe that he loved him anymore. All he cared about was his beloved _Sirius_ – of course he would believe Severus a fool for having fallen for his deception, for having believed that something good could happen to him for a change, for being so hurt and disillusioned by this truth that it almost drove him mad, that he never wished to feel again. And Remus was right. Severus was a fool.

And wasn't that a lover's roar, erupting from Black's mouth when he leapt towards Severus, coming to Remus's defence? Wasn't that the reaction Severus would have shown if anyone else had hurt Remus? The thought made him even more furious and he pointed his wand directly between Black's eyes, glaring at him with all the hatred in him pouring out of his eyes. If Remus couldn't be his, no one would have him, least of all Black!

"Give me a reason," he whispered, for he was on the verge of striking anyway. "Give me a reason to do it and I swear I will."

Black stopped dead, giving Severus a look of almost equal hatred. The room was silent now but for the squeaking of Weasley's rat. Remus lay unmoving on the floor, his amber eyes directed at Severus. A symbol for everything Severus had lost tonight. The only thing that kept Severus from losing control was that he controlled this situation and everybody in this room. Already he was thinking about killing Black right in front of Remus's eyes. One more name on the list of people whose deaths he had caused, but nobody would blame him if it was Black. And what could possibly hurt Remus more? He was a second away from killing Black in cold blood, when Granger stepped forward.

"Professor Snape – it – it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w-would it?" she said breathlessly.

"Miss Granger, you're already facing suspension from this school," Severus spat without taking his eyes off Black. "You, Potter and Weasley are out of bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, _hold your tongue_."

"But if – if there _was_ a mistake –"

Severus rounded on her, losing his countenance. "KEEP QUIET, YOU SILLY GIRL!" he shouted and sounded like a stranger even to himself. In the corner of his eye he saw Remus flinch. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" His rage made sparks fly from his wand into Black's face, which shut Granger up quite effectively. Even the children cared more about the well-being of that murderer than about Severus. None of them knew his pain, this dreadful feeling in his chest that was driving him mad, so why couldn't they just keep out of this? Wasn't it obvious that he could barely hold himself together?

"Vengeance is very sweet," Severus breathed, turning back to Black to hold on to the last thing that kept him sane. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you …"

"The joke's on you again, Severus," snarled Black, and his use of Severus's name was almost mocking. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle, I'll come quietly." And he jerked his head at Weasley, who was holding his squealing rat in a tight grip.

So he would come quietly, would he? Severus knew that this was his chance to give both Remus and Black exactly what they deserved for playing with him. "Up to the castle?" he said silkily and felt some perverse delight as he savoured his next words. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the Dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black … pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay ..." To Severus's feet, Remus struggled a little against the ropes that tied him as Black's face drained of all colour. It was immensely satisfying.

"You – you've got to hear me out," croaked Black, looking panic-stricken. But Severus didn't have to do anything for _Black_. "The rat – look at the rat –"

But Severus wouldn't have any of that. All he wanted now was to give Black to the Dementors for mattering more to Remus than Severus did. Severus wanted Remus to watch as the soul he had risked everything for was destroyed for good. Maybe it would relieve this maddening pain inside Severus. Maybe it would lessen the humiliation.

"Come on, all of you," Severus said and clicked his fingers to make the ends of Remus's ropes fly into his hand. He glanced down at the werewolf and narrowed his eyes. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the Dementors will have a kiss for him, too –" he said coldly and saw Remus's amber eyes widen. Perhaps he wouldn't have believed it possible that Severus would go this far, but there was nothing Severus wouldn't do now. Remus's soul would be ripped out by the Dementors and they would be to settle the score. Remus had been the one who had ripped out Severus's soul first, after all. Remus had made his choice, had given his soul to Black rather than to Severus. And if that soul was not devoted to Severus, Severus didn't want it to exist at all. He knew that he wasn't thinking straight anymore, but he didn't care. He just wanted it to stop hurting. Had he only stayed lonely in the first place, he would never have known such pain, nor, however, the pleasures that were the source of his madness.

When Severus looked up, Potter was standing before him, barring his way. "Get out of the way, Potter, you're in enough trouble already," snarled Severus, now barely able to contain all the emotions inside him. "If I hadn't been here to save your skin –"

"Professor Lupin could have killed me a hundred times this year," said Potter, but that wasn't news to Severus. Remus was full of explanations, Severus wouldn't believe them or go by the policy of "innocent until proven guilty" anymore. Remus was guilty, and he would pay. "I've been alone with him loads of times, having defence lessons against the Dementors. If he was helping Black, why didn't he just finish me off then?"

"Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works," Severus hissed and the ropes tightened round Remus's body when his furious magic pulsed through them. Remus gave a little squirm, whether because of the ropes or because of what Severus had said, Severus didn't know. "Get out of the way, Potter."

"YOU'RE PATHETIC!" the boy yelled and Severus's control slipped further away from him with every word that loathed boy uttered. "JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON'T EVEN LISTEN –"

"SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!" Severus screamed as the last shred of control left him and all that remained was anguish. He felt as if he were going mad in earnest. It was a dreadful feeling. What did that naïve child know? He knew nothing of this! He had no right to stand in the way of Severus's revenge on the men who had made him feel like this! "Like father, like son, Potter! I have just saved your neck, you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he'd killed you! You'd have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black – now get out of the way, or I will _make_ you. GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!"

But just as he was was about to force his way past Potter, there was a choir of " _Expelliarmus_ " and he felt that he was blasted off his feet and thrown against the wall. He lost his senses, forced to succumb to something like sleep, only deeper and violent. At once, a peaceful feeling overcame him, and the wish that it might stay like this sprouted inside him. It was like lying between the silk sheets of his bed with Remus, who was holding his wrist with a warm, gentle hand. It was almost as though Severus had woken from a dreadful dream. But then he grew suddenly cold, and when he opened his eyes, he was lying outside in the grass under the Whomping Willow, the full moon glaring mockingly down at him. And the dreadful dream turned out to have been dreadful reality.

His throbbing head caused him some disorientation and he reached out to where Remus had been lying just a moment ago, holding his wrist. But that had been a dream, there was no one beside him, he was alone. He raised a hand to his head, groaning in pain, and felt something wet at his temple. He held his fingers into the moonlight and saw blood. It was almost relieving. Like an outlet for all the horrible feelings that had made him want to throw Remus to the Dementors.

Remus! Severus was coming back to his senses now and scrambled to his feet. He looked around and tried to focus his eyes on his surroundings. Everything was still and silent. And terribly bright. He looked again at the glaring moon and moaned. The Wolfsbane. He had not brought it. Remus. Where was he now and where were the others? What had happened since Severus had been knocked out? If anything happened to any of them it would be his responsibility.

Swaying rather a lot, Severus would almost have fallen over Weasley, who was lying on the ground unconscious. Severus looked at him and felt rather embarrassed that the turmoil of feelings inside him had made it so easy for the children to overpower him. They had caught him off guard with their Disarming spells. It was even more annoying that he himself had taught them that spell. Severus wanted to bring Weasley to the castle but when he reached for his wand it wasn't there. What had he been expecting? That life would go easy on him for a change? Surely not. With a sigh he got on his hands and knees to search for his wand in the dark grass, hoping that none of the others had taken it along. After felt hours of feeling and squinting through the darkness, Severus had finally found it and conjured a stretcher for Weasley, peering into all directions in search of the others.

Suddenly he heard a distant howl and whipped round. The howl was followed by a yelp and screams. They were coming from the lake. Severus hurried in that direction but before he had crossed more than ten feet he stumbled over something that was thus kicked into the air and landed a few feet farther away in the grass. Severus bent down to pick it up. It was Remus's wand. Severus looked at the ornately carved cypress wood and for a moment he wanted to snap it. He didn't. He couldn't. It felt good in his hand. At home. It was part of Remus. So he put it safely into his pocket and continued on to the lake, glancing around, alert, just in case the werewolf showed himself.

When he drew close to the lake, he was met by an unusual sight. Hundreds of Dementors were gliding over the grounds, apparently retreating to their posts. Severus stopped as he felt their effect on his marred soul even from this far away and he waited until they were out of range before he continued so he wouldn't lose consciousness again, though he wouldn't have minded returning to the peaceful dreamland of before. It was dangerous to lie on the ground defenceless when a werewolf and Dementors were roaming the area. As he was walking towards the lake, he felt empty. There was no fury, no hatred, and no pain left. But emptiness was no better. It was like feeling the cold breath of insanity in the back of his neck, ready to overpower him any second.

As he peered through the darkness, he saw Black, Granger and Potter all collapsed by the lakeside and was prepared for the worst. Werewolf bite, Dementor's Kiss, anything was possible. Severus stumbled down to the lake and fell to his knees beside the Dementors' victims. All three were fine. Even Black. But how? Why? Why had the Dementors left? What could have made them scorn such easy prey? Black had a few scratches that looked as if a werewolf's claws had inflicted them. But none of the three sported a bite. Severus was disappointed and relieved at the same time. He knew that the only thing Remus was really afraid of was to bite somebody. They had all been tremendously lucky. Severus, too.

He looked around. Not far from here, Remus and he had shared a sandy kiss only hours ago. It felt like centuries now, like several lives ago. He couldn't make the place out in the darkness, couldn't see the high reed behind which they had knelt in the water. The laughter in the lake, the passion in early March, the kiss in the hidden staircase … it had all been a lie. None of it had been real. It hadn't meant anything to Remus. And Severus felt even more of a fool for regretting that fact because it had meant something to him. He felt nothing now. As though the extreme pain of before had extinguished all of his emotions and numbed him completely. He had believed in Remus. He had trusted him. How would he ever be able to get over this? This wasn't fleeting, not even passing, it was going to stay with him forever. He would never trust again.

The wind carried a howl to his ears. He couldn't stay here. It was time to go. Feeling nothing but the sand under his knees, Severus bound and gagged Black, summoned stretchers for all three of them and hovered them to the castle, picking up Weasley on the way. When he was almost at the front doors he turned to the Forbidden Forest, straining his ears to catch the werewolf's distant howls that were swept away by the wind like the plans for the summer that Severus had so wanted to make.


	29. Lesson Twenty-Nine: Hasty Vengeance

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: So, two more chapters to go. And of course you can rely on Severus for some tragedy.

Hey Avery, I'm glad to hear the move went well! So, only two more chapters to go, I hope you'll like them, even if the beautiful moments are over.

Hi there, Lee, thanks so much for your long reviews, makes me so happy to see that you appreciate all the details and imagine how you'd like the story to go on. For now, Severus's manages quite well to make himself feel small ... when I published the original version of this story, people were on Severus's side (I wasn't), so it's interesting that you are on Remus's :).

* * *

 **Lesson Twenty-Nine: Hasty Vengeance**

Once inside the castle, Severus headed for the hospital wing with the four stretchers hovering in front of him. The castle was dark and silent but for Severus's footsteps. And there was the shadow of a voice in his head, a voice that whispered thoughts that he didn't want to contemplate now. It was his own presence creeping up on him. And the emotion that he felt most prominently in those thoughts was one that he didn't want to feel right now. It wasn't hatred, anger, or even disappointment, the emotions that caused that stubborn ache in his chest, no, it wasn't directed at anybody else. It was shame.

Trying to force it down, to ignore it, to drown the voice out by stepping more loudly on the stone floor, Severus strode along the deserted corridors, the shame following in his wake, always at his heels. He was using the time in lonely silence to compose himself and shut away his emotions. He had lost control earlier, because of Remus. He had never lost control when committing a crime for the Dark Lord, or when spying for Albus, but when Remus turned out to be a traitor it made his walls collapse, allowing his emotions to run wild. It was like a bad joke, but Severus wasn't in the mood for laughing. And he had just enough time and quiet now to hastily restore superficial control over his emotions.

As he arrived in the infirmary, he hovered the children onto three beds, keeping Black by his side, and knocked on Madam Pomfrey's office door to rouse her. When she didn't open immediately, he grew impatient and kept knocking loudly, keeping an eye on Black in case he woke. His control was crumbling again and he took a deep breath as the door opened to reveal an ill-tempered matron.

"Professor Snape," she whispered with a decided edge to her voice, "you are waking my patients!"

He knew he was her least favourite hospital visitor but tonight manners didn't matter. "I have three patients for you who were in the grounds after curfew," he said quietly, indicating Potter, Granger, and Weasley. "You will want to check on them, I'm sure."

Madam Pomfrey's eyes widened and she bustled past him, not even noticing Black. "Not them again!" she said in an exasperated voice, then she turned to Severus giving him a suspicious look. "This is not your doing, is it?"

"On the contrary," Severus said, rather offended, "thanks to me they are still alive. They are the ones who injured me." And he pointed at his temple, where he could still feel the blood that had by now trickled onto his shoulder.

Madam Pomfrey approached him to look at his head, but as she drew close she suddenly shrieked and almost fell over backwards. "Is that – is that –" she stammered, pointing at the stretcher that was still hovering by Severus's side.

"Sirius Black, yes," said Severus smoothly, "it is a long story that I shall tell later, right now I only want to make sure that the children are looked after, so I can go and inform the Headmaster that I have arrested Black."

"Ah, yes, of course," said Madam Pomfrey, turning back to the children, "do you know what happened to them?"

"Dementors," said Severus curtly.

Madam Pomfrey clicked her tongue. "In the grounds?" she said indignantly. "Horrid creatures. Well, what are you waiting for, Professor, I've got everything under control here."

Severus snorted. Leaving the infirmary with Black on his stretcher, he climbed further up the stairs towards Albus's office. Halfway there, he ran into Professor Flitwick. Literally. He was rounding a corner and positively bowled the tiny professor off his feet with his vigorous strides. Flitwick cried out and Severus stopped, glancing at Black to make sure he was still unconscious.

"Severus," squeaked Flitwick, getting to his feet, "what is the matter in the dead of –" He stopped as his eyes found Black. "Merlin's beard, is that –"

"Sirius Black," said Severus almost wearily, "I caught him in the grounds. It is a long story and I have little time. I need to speak to the Headmaster."

"Of course, of course," muttered Flitwick, looking up at Severus, "but you can't carry Black with you everywhere you go, what if he wakes?"

Severus looked at Black again and felt the shame taking hold of his throat. Indeed, he didn't want Black close to him anymore, but not because he feared him. The shame was trying to strangle him, so he took a deep breath to shake it off. Black's face confronted him with the shame he felt, and there was a sickening feeling in his stomach that he tried to blame on his injury but that was really caused by the night's events. Black's presence was too unpleasant to bear, even when he was out cold. His mere existence was an offence to Severus. So Severus decided to get rid of him.

"No, you are right," he said slowly, looking at Flitwick. "Perhaps you would help me and lock him up in your office? It is in the highest tower, after all, and without a wand it would be impossible for him to escape."

"An excellent idea, Severus," squeaked Flitwick, looking fiercely determined. "I will do just that while you inform Albus."

"I shall leave Black in your custody then," said Severus as Flitwick pointed his wand at Black's stretcher to take over the hovering spell. "Guard the door at all times. We must not underestimate him."

"Don't worry, Severus," squeaked Flitwick, already hurrying to his office with Black in front of him. "I will guard him with my life!"

Severus looked after them for a few moments, feeling relieved that he no longer had Black on his hands. There was no reason not to entrust Flitwick with that responsibility, he was, after all, a great duelist. With a sigh, Severus continued down the corridor to Albus's office, quickening his step further to run from the shame that was still following him around. Why didn't it just go away? Or latch onto Black for stealing Remus away from Severus. Silly thoughts. _Calm down and control yourself, Snape!_

Then Severus stopped dead. Perhaps it was better to owl the Ministry first, inform them that Black was being held at Hogwarts, so they could come and take him away, maybe even throw him to the Dementors. Who knew what Albus would do or say once Severus had informed him of what had happened. For now, Severus was still in control, he had the power and the authority to decide what to do. And shouldn't he be the one to decide what was to happen to Black? He was the one who had been injured most, not only physically. He made up his mind, turned on his heel and hurried to the Owlery to send that owl. When he saw it flying into the bright darkness, he felt a grim satisfaction. Black would not get away with his crimes against Severus this time. He would pay.

Ten minutes later, he was running up the winding staircase to hammer against Albus's door. It took a while to swing open and Severus stumbled inside as it did. Albus was standing in the middle of his office in his dressing-gown, yawning widely. "I think that I interpret correctly your attempt to break down my door, if I assume that something is the matter, Severus?" he said quietly and Severus barely had enough patience left to let him finish.

"Something certainly is the matter, Headmaster," he said quickly, "I have apprehended Sirius Black! He is currently being held in Flitwick's office."

Albus looked at him, his eyes suddenly alert. "You apprehended him?" he asked sharply. "How ever did you manage?"

Severus felt a little offended then. "I shall tell you on the way," he said and moved back out of the door. "Follow me."

"Where are we going, Severus?" asked Albus but he didn't sound curious or confused.

"To the infirmary," said Severus curtly. "Potter, Granger, and Weasley are there. I brought them back from the Whomping Willow."

"The Whomping Willow," muttered Albus, "don't tell me that you found them in the Shrieking Shack?"

"Yes, indeed, I did," said Severus indignantly, "apparently, Black had lured them there by kidnapping Weasley – of course none of that would have happened if those insolent children hadn't been out after curfew, but I hardly think that that is of any consequence to you!"

Albus gave him a look. "And how did you know where to find them, Severus?" he asked, sounding curious this time. "Did you simply happen upon them? I hardly believe that possible."

Severus didn't answer at first. He swallowed hard as he remembered how he had found out where Black was and he didn't know how much he could actually tell Albus. "There was a magical map of the castle and grounds," he said slowly, "on Re– … on Lupin's desk. When I found it, it showed Lupin taking the passageway to the Shrieking Shack. And I counted one and one together."

"You thought he had found out where Black was and gone to catch him?" asked Albus and his tone gave away that he knew this to be untrue.

"No," said Severus as they entered the hospital wing, "I figured that Lupin was going to meet his old friend at their old hiding place. It was a mere coincidence that I found the children there. I suppose that the two of them developed the plan to lure them there together."

Albus gave him a searching look before he bent over Potter to examine him. "So you actually accuse Remus of collaborating with Black?" he asked seriously and turned back to Severus as soon as he had assured himself of Potter's wellbeing. "After all that has happened, you believe him to be Black's accomplice?"

"You weren't there! His behaviour speaks for itself," growled Severus as Madam Pomfrey approached the two of them. "I told you he couldn't be trusted, I told you he was helping Black!"

"Remus Lupin?" asked Madam Pomfrey, giving Severus a scandalised look. "Surely not! I know that man, I have known him since he was a boy, and he would never –"

"Oh, he wouldn't, would he?" Severus cut across her. "Charming Professor Lupin, so kind and polite to everybody, of course he couldn't hurt a fly. But your precious Lupin is out there this instant, roaming the grounds for a victim!"

"Indeed?" asked Albus quite calmly. "And I take it he didn't drink his Potion today?"

"No, he –" Severus began, but as he turned to Albus he felt that cutting shame again, that heavy responsibility. He had not given Remus the Potion in time. But it was Remus's fault that he was running wild in the grounds, not Severus's. "He forgot to take it in his hurry to get to the Shrieking Shack and meet Black!"

"Maybe," said Albus thoughtfully, "or maybe you made a mistake, Severus. Maybe Remus saw the children on that magical map that you told me about, and wanted to bring them back to the castle. Maybe he forgot the Potion in his hurry to save them."

"Of course you would defend him," spat Severus, anger flaring up inside him to drown out the shame. "Lupin's word and his well-being were always more important to you than mine!"

Albus looked placidly at him, with that same maddening calm that Remus had shown Severus tonight. Madam Pomfrey looked between them, confused and shocked. Albus glanced at her, apparently deciding that this conversation had better be continued in private. "This is all beside the point," he said finally and Severus huffed. "What I would like to know now is what happened after you followed Remus into the Shack."

Severus took a deep breath, regaining some control. "I found the children being held by Black and Lupin," he said levelly, trying to block out Remus as much as he could. "I had them in check for a while but when I wanted to bring them all up to the castle, the children attacked me …" And he jerked his head angrily in Potter's direction. Albus cocked his head to the side to look at Severus's temple.

"Ah, I see it now, you've got a cut there, Severus, you should have it looked at by Poppy," he said, and sounded worried.

Madam Pomfrey approached Severus at once but he stepped back from her. "I don't want it looked at," he snapped. The physical wound was soothing somehow. The throbbing pain distracted him from the ache in his chest, the bleeding was like a drain for those dreaded emotions that he had felt all night.

"Do you have any idea why the children would attack you?" asked Albus with a shrewd look on his face that Severus didn't like. But he had his answer ready. What use was it to blame the children. Potter wouldn't be expelled no matter what Severus said, so he decided to lend his version of events more weight. Gullible students didn't make a good enough case against Black.

"Confunded, no doubt," he said coldly. "Made to believe that Black was innocent or some such codswallop. He turned them against me."

"Indeed," said Albus slowly, a thoughtful look on his face.

"As I was saying, they attacked me and I lost consciousness. I awoke outside under the Whomping Willow. Everybody except Weasley had disappeared. Lupin had transformed, of course, and I found the other three by the lake. They had apparently been attacked by the Dementors, which were returning to their posts by the time I came round."

"It is incredible how lucky you all were not to be bitten by Remus and not to be Kissed by the Dementors," said Madam Pomfrey.

But Severus didn't feel lucky. He half wished to have been bitten. He would have a part of Remus inside him now after losing everything. And Remus would be forever feeling guilty. He would have to think of Severus every day for the rest of his life having passed on his curse to him. They would have been connected forever, painfully so. It would have served Remus right. But what thoughts. It must be the wound to his head that produced them. Or the influence of the Dementors.

"I don't know if it was luck, Poppy," said Albus slowly, and Severus snapped out of his thoughts. "That a werewolf doesn't bite when it gets the chance, particularly when its potential victims are unconscious and unguarded is, to put it lightly, highly improbable, but that Dementors don't perform the Kiss when they get the chance is, I daresay, impossible. The odds of the two occurring in the same night are astronomical. I don't yet see the whole picture, but I believe that there must be more to it than sheer luck. You have informed the Ministry, I trust," he asked Severus, now more alert than ever.

"Of course," said Severus almost defiantly. "Black belongs in prison, if not to the Dementors."

"Then I must speak to Black while there is still time," said Albus. "When the Minister arrives, feel free to tell him your version of events. I will join you shortly." And before Severus could even reply, Albus had left the infirmary.

Severus looked round at Madam Pomfrey. They both knew Albus's eccentricities and that he could be infuriatingly confusing. She shrugged, heaved a sigh, and turned to fuss over her patients. Severus sat down on a bed, staring into space. Now all he could do was wait. There was a churning in his stomach when he thought of Remus. He tried harder to block him out of his mind and erase his presence from tonight's memories to keep his emotions in check. Nobody was ever to know what had passed between them, nobody was to know how he had fooled Severus, how greatly he had disappointed, how deeply he had hurt him.

"No matter what you say, Professor," said Madam Pomfrey very close to him and he started as he noticed that she was examining his wound, "I refuse to believe that Remus Lupin has done anything unlawful, let alone trying to kill his own students. I cared for him when he was a student at Hogwarts, I know him better than any other student that was under my care, and I know that he is decent beyond doubt, in spite of his condition."

Severus jerked his head away from her with a nasty snarl. "Believe what you will," he said, refusing to allow any doubt in himself that he might have made a mistake tonight. After all, everything he had done would only warrant even more shame if it was so – but he didn't want to think about that now. He touched his temple. The blood had congealed. "I know what I saw with my own two eyes!"

"But that has always been your problem, Professor, even as a boy," said Madam Pomfrey in a clipped voice, "you only ever saw what you expected to see."

With those words she left him sitting alone in the infirmary, staring after her, dumbstruck and scandalised. Albus had said the same thing to him more than once. But none of them could change what had passed tonight. The naked facts proved Severus right, no matter how dear Remus was to them or how little they wanted to believe him a traitor. Why didn't anybody thank Severus for saving the children, for catching Black? Why was nobody angry at Remus for being reckless enough to end up running wild in the grounds?

Severus felt cold. They blamed it on him, surely, and they were right. If he hadn't – but no, not he was to be judged tonight. He rose to his feet and walked to the window to look up at the moon. He felt resentful. How could it be that mere hours ago he had kissed Remus, had held him in his arms, had laughed with him, shared his bed with him. All for the last time. How had his lips felt against his? How warm had his body been, how soft his skin under Severus's calloused hands? Why hadn't Severus noticed that it had all been a lie? How could he have been so foolish? How could it be that one man had changed him so much in just a year's time? Remus had got him right where he wanted him now. Another sickening feeling crept into his throat: regret. All the memories he had of the last year suddenly felt indecent and unpleasant. But he couldn't erase them, couldn't undo what had passed. He would have to suffer. Severus had let down his guard and paid the price.

Looking out over the grounds, he couldn't help thinking of the werewolf in the Forbidden Forest. He remembered the howls he had heard in the grounds. He wondered if Remus would come back to the castle unscathed. And he remembered how pleased he had been when he had sent Remus crashing to the floor of the Shrieking Shack, how satisfied he had been when Remus's amber eyes had looked up at him in shock. Suddenly the sickening feeling in his throat overwhelmed him and he stumbled to the bathroom, bending over the sink as he retched. No, this wasn't right, this miserable feeling was Remus's fault, everything that had come to pass tonight was Remus's doing. Why was Severus the one who felt shame turning his stomach? He looked at the mirror over the sink as he ran the water. It was dark in the room and he didn't want to light the torches. This shadowy creature in the mirror reflected perfectly how he felt. That was all that seemed to be left of him.

When Severus left the bathroom, he saw Flitwick entering the infirmary with Cornelius Fudge. Severus stopped dead, taking another deep breath to compose himself. He thought of Black up there in the tower, and he thought of Remus in the Forest. So Remus preferred Black, did he? He wondered if it was some kind of sick Marauder game to take everything from Severus that meant something to him. Severus tried to build up some anger, but he knew it was only covering the surface of his pain. That didn't change the fact that he wanted Black to pay, though.

"Good evening, Minister," said Severus silkily, approaching the two wizards.

Flitwick excused himself and went back to guard his office, Fudge looked up from the children, whom he had been considering worriedly. "Snape, just the man I wanted to see," he said and seemed quite excited. "Dumbledore won't let me see Black before he's done talking to him and he told me that you would fill me in on the night's events."

"Of course, Minister," said Severus just as Madam Pomfrey came out of her office.

"Ah, Minister," she said, stopping beside Severus and trying to dap at his wound with a cloth soaked in Murtlap essence but Severus dodged her with a hiss. She glared at him, he glowered back. "I trust you will take Sirius Black back to Azkaban, Minister?"

"Oh no, I don't think so," said Fudge, turning his bowler hat in his hands, "the Dementors will perform the Kiss as soon as Dumbledore is done questioning him and that will be that."

"Good riddance," muttered Severus, a burning feeling of triumph in his chest.

"What a relief," Madam Pomfrey said a little crossly as Severus dodged her cloth yet again. "Now, if the gentlemen could continue their conversation outside, my patients need peace and quiet." She shot Severus a pointed look that he took as his cue to leave the ward with Fudge.

He then started recounting the same version of events he had given Albus, just as rough and just as void of his interaction with Remus. He wanted to present himself in a good light and he didn't want to think of Remus too much. Already the Minister was promising him an Order of Merlin, but that only made the nagging shame worse. Severus also glossed over how he had lost consciousness as the Minister asked about the cut on his temple. The children were at fault, Confunded, of course. Severus felt quite pleased with himself for having come up with that explanation. Whatever the children said now, nobody would believe that they were telling the truth and not some warped version that Black had planted into their minds. And of course Severus used this opportunity to convince the Minister that they deserved to be punished at least a bit for being in the grounds after hours, defying the safety measures that had been taken for Potter's own good and getting themselves into a dangerous situation with a murderer and a werewolf. A werewolf. Severus felt sick again as soon as the word had left his mouth. It was no longer an endearment. It was like verbal abuse now that Remus had hurt him. And he wanted to retreat to the bathroom again. But he had to stay strong.

"What amazes me most is the behaviour of the Dementors … you've really no idea what made them retreat, Snape?" asked Fudge when the Potter case had been closed.

"No, Minister, by the time I came round they were heading back to their positions at the entrances …"

"Extraordinary. And yet Black, Harry, and the girl –"

"All unconscious by the time I reached them," Severus interrupted, growing somewhat tired of the conversation. "I bound and gagged Black, naturally, conjured stretchers and brought them all straight back to the castle."

Fudge was silent now, and Severus was glad. He didn't want to answer any more questions. He was afraid of opening his mouth anyway, because he was still feeling sick. He looked over his shoulder, out of the window and noticed just how much blood had trickled onto his shoulder. Again, he felt that strange relief that the wound had caused. Whom was he fooling? He didn't feel like a hero, he didn't want the Order of Merlin. He felt miserable. All he wanted was for this night never to have happened.

Suddenly Severus heard somebody shouting in the infirmary and he entered, followed by Fudge. Potter was out of bed, looking shocked. Whatever Madam Pomfrey had told him, it hadn't gone down easily. Fudge looked agitated.

"Harry, Harry, what's this?" he said anxiously. "You should be in bed – has he had any chocolate?"

"Minister, listen!" said Potter urgently. "Sirius Black's innocent! Peter Pettigrew faked his own death! We saw him tonight! You can't let the Dementors do that thing to Sirius, he's –"

"Harry, Harry," said Fudge, shaking his head, clearly not taking Potter seriously, "you're very confused, you've been through a dreadful ordeal, lie back down, now, we've got everything under control."

But Potter wasn't about to give up so easily. "YOU HAVEN'T!" the insolent child yelled. "YOU'VE GOT THE WRONG MAN!"

Now Granger hurried to Potter's side. "Minister, listen, please," she said imploringly. "I saw him, too. It was Ron's rat, he's an Animagus, Pettigrew I mean, and –"

"You see, Minister?" Severus cut in, almost amused at how insane it all sounded from Granger's mouth. "Confunded, both of them … Black's done a very good job on them…"

"WE'RE NOT CONFUNDED!" roared the boy and it all played right into Severus's hands.

"Minister! Professor!" said Madam Pomfrey angrily, with a particularly nasty look at Severus. "I must insist that you leave. Potter is my patient, and he should not be distressed!"

"I'm not distressed, I'm trying to tell them what happened!" said Potter just as angrily. "If they'd just listen –"

But Madam Pomfrey shoved a rather large chunk of chocolate into Potter's mouth to silence him, which Severus appreciated very much. He thought about trying that with something more disgusting when Potter next showed him cheek. The matron forced the boy back into bed and was about to throw Fudge and Severus out when Dumbledore entered the ward and Potter jumped up again to try and talk to him instead.

"For heaven's sake," said Madam Pomfrey, now rather hysteric. "Is this a hospital wing or not? Headmaster I must insist –"

"My apologies, Poppy, but I need a word with Mr Potter and Miss Granger," said Dumbledore, inciting a feeling of foreboding in Severus. "I have just been talking to Sirius Black –"

"I suppose he's told you the same fairy tale he's planted into Potter's mind?" Severus cut in quickly. "Something about a rat, and Pettigrew being alive –"

"That, indeed, is Black's story," said Albus and gave him a look. A look that clearly said "you only see what you expect to see". A look that said "you've made a mistake".

But Severus had seen what he had seen. _Don't waver now, Severus, you know what happened_. "And does my evidence count for nothing?" he snarled defiantly. "Peter Pettigrew was not in the Shrieking Shack, nor did I see any sign of him in the grounds."

"That was because you were knocked out, Professor," Granger said and it made Severus's control very brittle. He didn't need a reminder of the fact that he had been knocked out by three children in front of Remus. And that Remus obviously hadn't cared. "You didn't arrive in time to hear –"

"Miss Granger," Severus managed in a level voice before it betrayed him, "HOLD YOUR TONGUE!"

Fudge scolded Severus but Dumbledore was impatient now, he would hear no objections to his talking to the children, angering Madam Pomfrey so much that she slammed her office door behind herself. Fudge gave in and said something about meeting the Dementors but Severus didn't move an inch. He just stared at Dumbledore, willing him to believe him, to be on his side just this once, when it really mattered. When the people who had hurt Severus needed to be punished.

"You surely don't believe a word of Black's story?" he asked as that other feeling grew ever stronger: disappointment.

"I wish to speak to Harry and Hermione alone," said Dumbledore calmly. This told Severus clearly that he did believe every single word of Black's story. And that Severus's evidence counted for nothing. And apparently, so did Severus himself.

"Sirius Black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen," Severus breathed, giving Albus another chance to prove that he cared. "You haven't forgotten that, Headmaster? You haven't forgotten that he once tried to kill _me_?"

"My memory is as good as it ever was," said Albus quietly

Severus's breath hitched. He felt worthless. Those Gryffindors knew how to be heartless, didn't they, how to make you believe that they cared about you, only to plunge Gryffindor's sword into your chest and reveal their true allegiance. Severus had enough. He turned on his heel and strode out of the hospital wing to accompany Fudge upstairs where Black was locked up. So Severus didn't matter, did he? He was only a tool to do Dumbledore's dirty work. But he didn't need Dumbledore tonight. If he acted now, before Dumbledore could step in, he could make sure that Black got what he deserved for what he had done to Severus. He would watch him receive the Kiss, and he would savour the moment when Black felt how it was to lose everything and be helpless, when he finally disappeared from this world. And he would savour the moment when Remus learnt of Black's fate. Seeing him suffer like Severus had suffered would be some kind of reparation at least.

"I only hope Dumbledore's not going to make difficulties," Severus said when they had almost arrived at Flitwick's office. "The Kiss will be performed immediately?"

"As soon as Macnair returns with the Dementors. This whole Black affair has been highly embarrassing. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to informing the _Daily Prophet_ that we've got him at last … I daresay they'll want to interview you, Snape … and once young Harry's back in his right mind, I expect he'll want to tell the _Prophet_ exactly how you saved him …"

Severus smirked. It was highly unlikely that Potter would ever speak well of him. But it would be too late for him to change what was going to happen now. Time was working in Severus's favour today. Just a few more minutes and Black would lose his soul. And no Potter was going to interfere.

"But as for the werewolf, I will have to talk to Dumbledore again," said Fudge thoughtfully. "How very imprudent to appoint a werewolf in the first place. Merlin knows what could have happened to the children. And for him to turn out to be Black's accomplice … well, I cannot say I'm surprised."

"Really?" asked Severus flatly, feeling more foolish than ever. "With all due respect, Minister, Lupin is an excellent actor. Few would have suspected it. Though I do agree that Dumbledore's decision to appoint him was … controversial to say the least."

It was true, though, it was all Albus's fault. If he hadn't appointed Remus, Severus would not have been humiliated like this. But maybe Albus thought it was another comic relief. Another thing that made Severus more human. Severus could have done without it. But then … then he would never have experienced all that Remus had given him. Yet it had all been fake. Every smile, every touch, every affectionate word. He should not want anything fake, even if it was blissful. But right now, when he approached the door to Flitwick's office, Severus wished Remus had just kept pretending tonight. He would give anything for that fake feeling of love to be directed at him again if it meant that tonight could be undone. Pathetic.

His steps gained in vigour as the feeling of humiliation grew stronger. Remus's voice echoed in his head. "You fool," he had said. Severus felt a burning in his whole body. His eyes itched. Macnair was waiting in front of the door with two Dementors flanking him. He nodded at Severus but neither of them acknowledged their acquaintance. Severus wanted nothing to do with him, never wanted to talk to him again. His left arm twisted of its own accord. As though the Dark Mark had suddenly returned to it from a long absence. Another thing Remus was responsible for. But after tonight that skull and snake suited him rather well again. Humiliation and shame, the combination was fatal.

Severus forced it all down, took another deep breath, clearing his body of all emotion. Or at least he tried. The Dementors made it hard to keep his emotions at bay. Negative thoughts and feelings kept nagging at him. But all of them whispered the same thing into Severus's ears – Remus didn't care about him, he cared about Black. It wasn't even hatred that he had shown him in the Shack, not even disgust, but indifference, which was even worse. The only way to put an end to all this was to destroy Black. Severus balled his fists.

"Open the door," Severus said quietly to Flitwick, who looked at Fudge.

"I think we had better wait for Dumbledore, Snape," said Fudge.

"Dumbledore has had his chance. Open – that – door," Severus snapped and the other two looked at each other again. Then Fudge shrugged and nodded.

"The sooner, the better, I think."

Flitwick finally complied and removed his charms from the door. As it sprang open, the Dementors glided inside and Severus followed quickly, though at a safety distance. But once in the room, he found that there was no victim for the confused Dementors. The office was empty, the window was open. Severus felt cold, desperate fury rising inside him. He rounded on Flitwick, who had entered the room behind him and looked just as confused as Severus felt.

"Where is he?" Severus asked forcefully. But Flitwick shook his head and seemed at a loss.

"I … I don't understand! I was here the entire time! After the Headmaster left, nobody else entered!" Flitwick squeaked hysterically and Severus looked out of the window. He didn't see anything. There wasn't a sign of him. The only thing visible was a feather, silently soaring through the air.

"Could he have escaped through the window?" asked Fudge, who was gaping in confusion.

"Without a wand?" asked Macnair and sounded almost impressed and slightly amused.

"He couldn't!" snapped Severus. "That's ridiculous. We are in the highest tower …" He looked around, searching for a clue to how Black had escaped.

"Oh, how am I going to explain this," gasped Fudge. "How do you explain an impossible escape?"

Severus looked at him and something clicked in his mind like a lock being opened. "Impossible, indeed."

Without another word, he pushed them all out of his way, leaving the Dementors behind, and stormed along the corridor, Fudge in his wake. With every step, Severus grew angrier, and every step seemed to be leading deeper into a sea of pain. But he wouldn't stop. The only way to keep that pain at bay was to let his anger run free. His emotions couldn't be contained any longer, so he chose the one that was least dangerous, least vulnerable. But this anger wasn't his usual brand, much rather it was spiced with that deep pain that Remus had inflicted, and that Albus had increased. Somebody had to pay, somebody should grant Severus justice.

Severus rounded the corner to the hospital wing and saw Albus outside the door, strolling towards him. It did not matter what Albus would say, Severus knew that if anything seemed impossible it had something to do with Potter. And since the boy was the only one available, he was the one whom Severus wanted to punish. As he drew closer to Albus, the Headmaster stopped.

"Why, Severus, you look upset," he said pleasantly. "What is the matter now?"

"Black has vanished," said Severus, trying his best to keep his voice down. "I don't know how, but I know who can tell us!" He strode past Albus, who followed him back to the infirmary.

"Wait a moment, Severus," said Albus, still sounding unconcerned. "You are not suspecting anybody else to have helped Black, are you?"

Severus stopped in his tracks and turned to Albus. He could barely trust his ears. That tone, and indeed, that almost smug look on Albus's face. He was in on this too! Had perhaps even initiated it, whatever "it" was. How could he do this to Severus? How dare he? Why did he help Black escape when he knew that that man had done Severus several serious wrongs? Severus would almost have jumped at Albus's throat.

"You know that this is Potter's doing," he said and it wasn't a question. "Black could never have escaped through the window without help and he certainly cannot walk through stone walls or closed doors without a wand. So there is only one solution."

"I don't think I follow you," said Albus, sounding so unconcerned that it qualified as mocking. "I locked Harry in the infirmary. How could he have helped Black escape? Even if he had got out of the ward, he could never have helped anybody out of the highest tower and returned here before you did."

Severus was fuming. The fact that Albus had locked Potter in only confirmed his suspicions. It was the construction of an alibi. Everybody seemed to have conspired against him tonight, determined to make him feel worthless. "I don't care what you say," he snapped, turning back to the infirmary, "I know that Potter had a hand in it! Black couldn't have escaped without outside help and since Lupin is 'busy' there's only one person left –"

"He must have Disapparated," Dumbledore said and Severus hated him powerfully for his increasingly mocking replies, "Severus, we should've left someone in the room with him. When this gets out –"

"HE DIDN'T DISAPPARATE! YOU CAN'T APPARATE _OR_ DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE!" Severus roared, beside himself. "THIS – HAS – SOMETHING – TO – DO – WITH – POTTER!"

"Severus – be reasonable – Harry has been locked up –"

Severus had enough of Albus's calm self-satisfaction. He was making a fool of him. Like Remus. Stomping on his feelings. Like Remus. It was by far the worst example of how little Albus cared about him. Noble Gryffindors, ha! Severus drew his wand, burst open the locked door with a crash, and strode inside.

"OUT WITH IT, POTTER! WHAT DID YOU DO?" he yelled at the boy, who looked so guilty it was almost ridiculously obvious.

"Professor Snape! Control yourself!" shrieked Madam Pomfrey but all control had already been lost. It had disappeared into the Forest to chase after Remus, it had followed Black out the window, it had disappeared in Albus's twinkling eyes.

"See here, Snape, be reasonable," said Fudge and it enraged Severus how blind they all were. "This door's been locked, we just saw –"

"THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!"

"Calm down, man! You're talking nonsense!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER!" screamed Severus, furious that nobody saw how obvious it was. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT –"

"That will do, Severus," said Albus quietly, and Severus fell silent, hope growing inside him that Albus would finally put an end to this insulting charade. But he shouldn't have hoped. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?"

"Of course not!" the matron said and Severus heard in her voice that he had just fallen even lower in her esteem of hospital visitors, if that was even possible. "I've been with them ever since you left!"

"Well, there you have it, Severus," said Albus calmly. "Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see a point in troubling them further."

Severus was sure that this was the worst treatment he had ever received from Dumbledore. He was the fool again, even though Dumbledore knew what was going on, had even had a hand in it for sure. Why did he do this to Severus? Did Severus really mean so little to him after all those years? Severus looked from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at the behaviour of an Order of Merlin candidate, to Albus, who just looked calmly back at him, not even ashamed for making Severus look like a fool. He felt like he was quite alone and isolated again. Everybody he cared about had turned against him in just one night.

Whirling round, Severus stormed out of the ward. He just wanted to put as much distance between him and those people as he could. His stomach churned rather violently now, and it felt as though he was being torn apart from the inside out, agonised by this turmoil inside him. Trying to hold himself together at least until he had reached his dungeons to prevent the humiliation of breaking down in the hallway, he almost ran downstairs.

Once inside his rooms, he slammed the doors. He started pacing to walk off all those feelings that were tearing at him. They were now a brutal mixture and he didn't know which ingredient was most prominent. He continued pacing, breathing hard, which only made it harder to think and control himself as it made him so aware of Remus's licorice scent, lingering in every room, on every piece of furniture. And it jogged memories of Remus's skin on his own, his lips on his, his voice filling the silence. It was shameful, but it was all too much for him to bear. He broke. His emotions overwhelmed him and he screwed up his eyes and screamed to relieve his anguish. Behind him, the glass cabinets exploded deafeningly. He fell to his knees.

Breathing felt a little easier now. Emotion subsided to leave pain. Everybody lied to him, used him, betrayed him. He had known Albus's two faces, though tonight was a particularly bad case. But Remus's had come as a surprise. He wanted to forget the past year, all of it. He wished it had never happened. No matter how much he had enjoyed it while it had lasted, all that was left now was the pain, the disappointment, the regret. Probably because it had been such a pleasant time. Possibly because it had felt real to him. Perhaps because he had felt loved for the first time in his life. He choked on that last thought. The pain was unbearable. Even more so than the uncontrollable emotion.

Severus reached into his robes and closed his fist round his wand. Only that it wasn't his when he pulled it out to repair the cabinets. It was Remus's. It was strangely heavy in his hand, strangely uncomfortable now. And when he swished it, it only shattered the glass shards on the floor further. He couldn't keep it. It wasn't his. Neither was Remus. Putting it back, he was suddenly blinded as the glass reflected the first rays of the sun. When he looked out of the window in unconscious search for Remus, he saw someone staggering out of the Forbidden Forest. It was him. Severus couldn't watch Remus's obviously painful way back to the castle. It threatened to turn his stomach again with shame that he didn't want to feel.

Severus pulled his eyes away and headed for the bathroom. Running the water, he looked at the mirror and saw for the first time his distorted features, the traces of pain and anger and misery. And shame. He averted his eyes and splashed water into his face, washing off the blood and cleaning his wound without looking at his own face. He didn't want to see it ever again. Grateful for the stinging pain in his temple, which helped him block all the other feelings for a few moments, he steadied himself on the basin and watched the water, that was mingled with his blood, disappearing down the drain. He didn't heal the wound. He wanted it to heal on its own. Like all the other wounds inflicted tonight that couldn't be healed with a flick of his wand or a quickly whipped-up potion. Maybe seeing how it closed and healed day by day would help Severus cope.

After he had changed into a fresh set of robes and sat in silence on his bed for a while, the silken sheets unpleasant under his hands, Remus's scent hauntingly clear in the room, he couldn't bear it anymore and left his rooms. They were contaminated. He didn't know if he could ever return there, let alone sleep in the bed that he had shared with Remus. As he slowly climbed the stairs to the Entrance Hall, he heard voices and stopped in the shadows. Albus was descending the stairs from the first floor with Fudge.

"… sure Severus merely – ah – misunderstood the situation," Albus was saying.

"In that case I will not press charges against that Lupin fellow," Fudge replied and Severus's heartbeat quickened. "But, really, Dumbledore, I think that appointing a werewolf teacher and letting him live among the students is simply irresponsible – and I think tonight's incident proves me right. It is not just prejudice as you suggested."

"You must agree, however, that the staffing at Hogwarts is my responsibility, Cornelius," said Dumbledore quietly, as they walked across the Entrance Hall. "For a whole year, under the care of our dear Potions master, it worked quite well without fail. He is a very good teacher and usually very responsible. Last night there were extenuating circumstances that caused a chain reaction of mistakes and accidents. And, seeing as no harm was done, I entreat you to keep the matter quiet. The poor man has gone through quite enough, I daresay."

"Well, of course, if you ask it, Dumbledore, I cannot refuse," said Fudge, nodding. "And by the by, could you tell Snape that we cannot award him the Order of Merlin, after all …"

As they left the castle, their conversation faded away. Severus stood in the shadows, heart hammering. This couldn't be true. So Remus would get away with everything unscathed, would perhaps even stay at the castle, and Severus would have to look him in the eye every day, would be forced to carry that horrible pain with him for the rest of his days with no chance of recovery. This couldn't be it, after everything Remus had done to Severus. After everything Severus had done to him.

Severus shook his head. The regret, the shame, the humiliation crept up on him again, trying to break him. He needed to do something. He needed Remus gone! He wanted justice. And he never wanted to see Remus again. Suddenly he heard voices approaching from the dungeons. As Draco Malfoy's laughter sounded, Severus had a sudden idea. It was the only possibility, the only adequate punishment. Betrayal could only be paid back with betrayal. And after last night, nobody in this castle could lay any claim to Severus's loyalty anymore.

As Draco and his friends appeared, Severus stepped out of the shadows, entering the Entrance Hall. They all wished him a good morning and he accompanied them to breakfast. "Quite an eventful night," he said casually and they were hanging on his lips at once, "you were lucky to be in your dormitories. Sirius Black showed himself again in the grounds and made a spectacular, almost impossible escape. Of course Potter and his friends were involved – and they were quite lucky that I saved their skins. Professor Lupin was in the grounds last night, too, you see … and it would have been rather regrettable if Potter and his friends had ended up as his midnight snack, would it not?"

Draco looked round at his friends, then back at Severus. "Midnight snack, Professor?" he asked, confused. "What does that mean?"

Severus pretended to be surprised at his ignorance. "But didn't you hear him howling –" he asked in a low voice and looked around mock furtively as he added, "at the _full moon_?" And without another word he left them and went to have breakfast at the High Table from where he watched in grim satisfaction as the news spread from Draco's seat throughout the whole of the Great Hall until it sounded like a buzzing beehive.


	30. Lesson Thirty: Majesty

**Title: **Fortune's Might****

Pairing: SS/RL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR.

Author's Note: Okay, so that's it. The last chapter is here, and I want to thank you all for reading along, for leaving reviews, for favouriting and so on :). If you want to leave me a last review to tell me how you liked the story, I'd love to read it!

I hope you're satisfied with the ending I thought up, but if not, you can go on to read **Journey** , the sequel to **The Teacher** , which is the original version of **Fortune's Might**. But always be aware that a few years have passed since I wrote it.

For now I'll say good-bye and see you next story, I hope :).

* * *

 **Lesson Thirty: Majesty**

Before it was even noon, the news of Remus's resignation were carried to Severus by a seething Minerva McGonagall, who approached him so fiercely that he thought she would punch him on the nose. Severus grew angry again. He wasn't the one who had betrayed and endangered everyone last night! Why didn't anyone feel disappointed in Remus? Why did everybody treat Severus as though he had committed a crime?

"You really haven't got yourself under control, have you?" barked McGonagall in the middle of the Entrance Hall, turning quite a few heads. "You want to brace yourself for trouble, the Headmaster has asked to see you in his office. Now!"

Severus made his way through the castle, which was almost deserted due to the brilliant weather, and didn't allow any other feeling to keep the pain company than satisfaction. He had brought about justice himself. And he had made sure that his wounds could heal in peace by making it impossible for Remus to stay. No matter what anybody had to say to him now, he knew that he had had no other choice, and that Remus deserved what he had got. He almost thought that he had lost the shame. Until he arrived in Albus's office, not being offered a chair, and Albus looking at him with that great disappointment in his eyes that mirrored Severus's own. Even the portraits were quiet, and even the silver instruments on all surfaces refused to puff and whirl, as though everyone and everything in this office was reproaching Severus silently.

"Are you even aware what you did?" asked Albus in that deadly calm voice that meant he was seriously unhappy. "You spilled a secret that Remus and his parents have kept for almost thirty years under great personal sacrifices, an intimate secret whose revelation will affect Remus's whole life and make it next to impossible for him to make a decent living or even show himself among wizards ever again without having to fear severe discrimination." There was a heavy pause during which he let this sink in but Severus didn't answer. All he had wanted was for Remus to lose his job, he had not thought any further, but he didn't know why he should care. Had Remus thought about how his betrayal might affect Severus? If he had, he had certainly not cared, either. "I cannot fathom what might have made you believe that you are in any way or under any circumstances entitled to inflict such damage on another human being –"

"Now, hold on, just a moment," Severus said, cold fury rising in him, " _I_ inflicted damage on _him_?"

"Silence," said Albus quietly but it was as though he had slapped Severus. "Nothing, I repeat, nothing can justify what you have done today. Everything you did and said last night can be excused by what you experienced in the Shrieking Shack, at least everything I witnessed. But what you did this morning was beyond anything I would ever have believed possible, and it was not only beneath you, it was also the worst example of selfish thoughtlessness I have ever witnessed. I cannot express how disappointed I am in you, especially because you knew how such an exposure would affect Remus, and you are lucky that you needn't face any consequences."

"That I don't need to face any consequences?" cried Severus furiously. "What about him? What consequences would he have been facing? He has betrayed all of us and you would have let him stay here! You would have let him off without punishment! I couldn't allow that! I couldn't let you condemn me to seeing him every day for the rest of my life … and apart from that, he had it coming. If he had come out with the truth from the beginning, none of this would have happened. He only has himself to blame."

"You speak of betrayal," said Albus softly, "Remus spoke of cowardice. I think that you're both wrong. And I think that you both know what this is really about. I am sure that Remus was not in league with Sirius, who, as you have surely realised by now, is innocent of the crimes he was sent to prison for. I know that you don't want to admit it just yet but last night you made a tremendous mistake, fell prey to a most unfortunate misconception." He raised his hand to silence Severus, who had made to contradict. "You can believe me that Remus cares about you very much and that he regrets what has passed. This is not between me and Remus but between Remus and you. I forgive him his secrecy – he explained himself to me first thing this morning and his reasons are understandable. You are the one who feels wronged, and that is the reason why I find your conduct so reproachable, not just today. From what I gather, you, too, know that you have overstepped a line, Severus," said Albus calmly, looking at Severus with piercing eyes. "Already in the Shrieking Shack you went too far."

"What has he told you?" asked Severus and the cold breath of shame was in the back of his neck again.

"Nothing, really," said Albus, looking at him seriously over his half-moon spectacles. "But neither did you, which is rather odd as you claim so fervently that he betrayed you but not how. This tells me that you are ashamed. You didn't want Sirius to receive the Kiss because of the murders you thought he had committed but because of the connection you thought he had with Remus over the last year. And if you would have sacrificed Sirius in such a manner, I am unwilling to imagine what you said and did to Remus, by whom you feel so unfairly treated."

Severus didn't reply. An immense weight seemed to be pressing down on him now. He had tried to block out everything he had said and done to Remus, but the shame was stubborn. It was true, Severus didn't want to see Remus again because he would see the same pain in his eyes that he felt. Everything had been destroyed. But Remus was at fault. He had run off and forgotten everything because of Black, and left Severus behind. Yes, it was easier to blame it all on Remus. It was more bearable than thinking that he, Severus, was the one who had made the mistake. That Remus had called him a fool because that was what he had been when he had pointed his wand at Remus, accusing him of betrayal.

"Remus had already resigned when you told the Slytherins that he is a werewolf," said Albus and sounded regretful. "None of the pain you have caused him today was necessary. It only served to quench your thirst for revenge. It was quite worthy of the old you, you know. The Death Eater."

Severus glanced at him but couldn't hold his gaze. He felt dreadful.

"And yet, the first thing Remus asked was not what had become of Sirius, or the children, or even Pettigrew, no, he inquired after your well-being," Albus continued and Severus knew he was just rubbing it in now. He liked to do that to Severus. He thought it educational. "There was nothing I could say to convince him to stay. He is packing right now and leaving as soon as his carriage arrives. You had better go and see him before it is too late."

"It is already too late," said Severus flatly, touching his throbbing temple. "He made it quite clear that I was a fool to believe in him."

Albus was silent for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and folded his hands. "Does your head still hurt, Severus? Or is it your dignity?"

Severus shot him a venomous glare. How dare he? Severus's dignity had been torn up by many hands last night, not least of all by Albus's. But his dignity hadn't been lost. Though he was one of the few who had not been threatened by Dementors this year, it was he who had lost his soul. "What do _you_ know about it?" he snapped. "You never once stopped to consider my feelings in this whole ordeal!"

"Oh, I did," said Albus matter-of-factly. "And I decided that none of those considerations justified the loss of one man's soul and another man's freedom, which I am sure you will understand one day. The soul I could save. The freedom was taken by you in the end, even though you swore never to reveal what Remus is. You sentenced him to a lonely life because you think that he condemned you to the same. Because you think that the face he showed you was fake."

"It was!" insisted Severus, unconcerned, at the moment, that Albus seemed to know everything. "It was all a lie!"

"Are you absolutely sure?" asked Albus sharply. Severus didn't reply. How could anybody be absolutely sure about anything? But the evidence spoke for itself. "I think that you had better go and resolve this. Or you will forever regret it. Remus cares deeply about you, whether you want to acknowledge it or not, and he did not deserve the treatment he suffered from your hand. Don't take my word for it. Go and convince yourself. Talk to him, look him in the eye and assure yourself of his feelings. You will see the truth. If you allow yourself to see more than what you expect to see. Hear him out. You owe it to him and to yourself. Even if that means accepting the shame and the guilt that I see at the back of your mind."

Severus started and averted his eyes, trying hastily to close his mind. But it was impossible. He hadn't been so incapable of practising Occlumency in thirteen years. "Don't do that, it's disrespectful," he snarled half-heartedly.

"I do not think that you deserve my respect at the moment," said Albus and Severus had seen that look on his face before, in a stormy night, fourteen years prior to this day. "Remus didn't seem to think so. What he regretted most when he resigned was that he could not make plans for the summer with you anymore. He asked that I don't suspend you for what you have done. His capacity to love is far greater than you would expect of a man who has lived his life."

"What else did he say?" Severus asked despite himself, a searing pain in his chest. He needed to know if Remus had said anything more about him. But Albus shook his head.

"You are dismissed, Severus," he said quietly. "What you do now is up to you."

Severus didn't even register that he left the office. His feet carried him somewhere that he had no control over, walking automatically along a well-known path. He passed the hidden staircase with the vanishing step and the memory connected with it popped into his head quite naturally, impertinently, but this time it left a bitter aftertaste instead of the sweet one the real experience had left in Severus's mouth. His mind was busy mulling over everything he had heard, taking into account everything that had passed last night. He was in this situation because he had opened himself to someone, trusted him, for the first time in many years, and the only thing that dunderhead had in mind was going and disappointing him, destroying all they had shared. Or had they? Had _anything_ been real? Or were Remus and Black laughing at him behind his back because he had been so gullible? Had it perhaps started out as a game and become more? But what did it matter now? Fake or not, Severus could not forgive Remus. And he doubted that Remus could ever forgive him, either. That thought tore at his insides like little else. He just wanted to fall to the stone floor and wait for the pain to subside. But would it ever go away? And if it didn't, how would he survive? Was it wrong to feel guilty? Was it right to want Remus to suffer equally? Was it foolish to regret that everything was over now? Regret wouldn't change anything. It _was_ over, once and for all.

His heavy steps echoed off the walls of Remus's corridor. The well-known path ended here. The door wasn't open today. Severus came to a halt in front of it. In the pocket of his robes he closed his hand round Remus's wand. He felt that he didn't have it in him to knock. Or to let go of that wand. His throat was tight and his tongue was heavy. He shouldn't have come. He should simply have slithered back into the dungeons and waited there until Remus had safely left his life. What was there to say now anyway? What was there to listen to? The truth? Severus wasn't sure if he could bear that. If he could bear entering this office and finding the Remus he had known, or the one he had met last night.

He had thought last night that he hated Remus for what he had done. To be sure, he was still disappointed, furious, hurt, but that other feeling, right there – yes, there – that wasn't hatred, though it had felt like it last night. It was the source of the pain and everything else. It was … too late. It had no right, no reason to be there. Not now. Not anymore. It was mocking him. Severus's eyes stung and he tried only half-heartedly to blame it on the sleepless night. Why couldn't Severus just be indifferent? Why couldn't Remus at least suffer more than him? Why didn't Severus just leave now to spare himself all of this? He didn't leave. His feet didn't obey him. But what to do?

"Are you going to come in or were you planning on standing guard out there all day?" said Remus's voice from inside, muffled by the door, making Severus start.

That blasted map of Remus's. But now there was no turning back. Remus had made the decision for him. He wouldn't run away and look even more like a fool than he already did in Remus's eyes. Slowly, Severus opened the door, and still more slowly he entered. The empty Grindylow tank was standing in the corner, the gramophone had gone, the door to the Remus's rooms was open, revealing a naked mantelpiece and bookcases, the armchair had gone as well, and all that told of the fact that the sofa had been sat on were two round tea stains, side by side on the coffee table. The Redcap and the Hinkypunk must already have been brought down to wait for the carriage. Severus's eyes drifted through the office. The shelves were empty and their contents were piled on the desk around the magical map that Remus was looking at. A battered suitcase lay open beside the desk. It was empty. The goblet of Wolfsbane that Severus had left on the desk last night wasn't. It stood on the map, on the same spot where he had set it down. Severus swallowed hard.

"Good morning, Severus," said Remus hoarsely, not looking up from the map. "I've been watching you for a while and I'm glad you came, after all."

Finally, Severus forced himself to look at Remus properly. His robes were hanging loosely round his shoulders as always, but they weren't merely darned and patched today, they were torn at the sleeves and hem, and dirty at the knees and elbows. Remus was paler, so much paler than Severus had ever seen him. He looked ill. There were scratches on his hands and face. And when Remus raised his eyes at last, they were dull. Though there was a strange serenity about him, there was misery etched into his features, and bitterness. He looked older somehow, without his smile. He looked as though he had cried. He sounded as though he had wept.

Standing in this office, Severus felt like a student under the weary gaze of his long-suffering teacher. Remus looked a bit like he was at a loss for yet another way to deal with Severus's failings. His eyes were full of the same disappointment Severus felt. Averting his eyes, uncaring that he showed a weakness, Severus looked at the cooled Potion on Remus's desk. Was there anything to say at all? Now that he was here, facing Remus, he didn't get out a word about his pain, about his regret, or his shame. And it was almost painful that Remus didn't yell at him for everything he had done last night and today. It was almost unpleasant that they didn't blame each other for what had happened. For losing what they had shared.

After the silence had stretched for a while, Remus gave in and sighed. "If you don't have anything to say, maybe you are interested in what I have to tell you," he offered. Severus didn't reply. He didn't want to listen, and yet he was eager to. He fixed his eyes on Remus's lips. Remus waited for a few moments, then he continued. "First things first, then: I didn't – ah – eat anything last night. I know you would have felt responsible."

He sounded strangely detached as he said this. As though he was talking about a business matter. Severus thought he should react in some way, so he gave a curt nod. Remus straightened up, looking closely at Severus, and his amber eyes wandered to the wound on Severus's temple. His brow creased.

"I am sorry you lost your Order of Merlin," he said quietly.

This loosened Severus's tongue at last. "You cannot lose anything that you never possessed …" he growled, and it was true for so much more than just the blasted Order of Merlin.

Remus's smile looked painful. "I understand you were rather displeased …"

" _Displeased_ ," hissed Severus. As if that even mattered now. As if he had even deserved an award for what he had done.

"Just like you are about my prolonged presence here after last night," said Remus, still smiling. "That must be why you made sure that I could not stay. Informing the students of my condition certainly took care of that. Strange that you would be the one to do that." He did not sound angry or reproachful. No, he sounded calm and at peace.

Severus wondered how he did that. Shouldn't the fact that Remus was leaving put Severus at ease and make Remus angry? But it was the other way around. It was almost as though Remus sympathised with Severus, maybe even pitied him for what he had done. It made Severus feel sick. It made his heart sink like a rock to the bottom of a lake.

When Severus didn't say anything, Remus ran a hand through his hair, which looked a good deal greyer than before last night. "You didn't really believe that I would stay after the danger I put all of you in last night?" he asked, trying to look into Severus's eyes. "You know me better than that."

"After last night I didn't know what you would do," said Severus rather viciously. "I only knew what I couldn't let you do."

For a moment, Remus looked as though Severus had slapped him, but he covered it up at once. "Somehow, though I knew that the curse would strike, I never believed that you would have a hand in it," he mused. "Maybe that was foolish."

Severus's left arm twisted and he glared at Remus. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Only that great love sometimes ends in great tragedy," said Remus levelly.

Severus felt shame and fury welling up inside him. "Don't you dare talk to me about love," he spat. "And don't you dare refuse to take the blame!" It was no good to think about how much of what had happened had been caused by the Dark Lord's curse. Maybe just the unfortunate combination of odd coincidences. But the deeds they had done and the words they had spoken were their own. Severus could not deny that as much as he might have wanted to. And he wouldn't allow Remus to do so. It was all entirely their fault. Remus's fault.

"I know that everything that happened yesterday was entirely my fault," said Remus and Severus stared at him. "Be it Peter's escape, my running wild in the grounds, or your pain. I don't deny that it is my responsibility. But it happened. Who knows how things would have looked if I hadn't made so many mistakes. Maybe an innocent man would have lost his soul, after all, instead of flying away on an equally innocent hippogriff."

Severus huffed. So that was what had happened. But it didn't matter now. "Innocent," he snapped sarcastically. "Everybody seems to be under the impression that only because Black didn't murder anyone his slate is clean. He would have deserved the Kiss for everything he has done to me. But no, he went free, without punishment. And so would you have if I hadn't done anything!"

Remus looked at him quite seriously then. "But if you acknowledge that Sirius did not commit the murders he was convicted for," he said, sounding bewildered, "why would you have me punished for helping him last night?"

"You lied to me," said Severus loudly, unable to hold back the sheer emotion in his voice, "all year you told me nothing but lies! You demanded that I trust you but when it mattered most you didn't trust me! And I wonder if anything you said to me, anything we shared, anything at all was real or if it was all just a lie and an act!" His voice broke and he tried to cover it up by taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. Remus said nothing, though his jaw had set and his brow creased. Severus gave a mirthless laugh.

"You were right, I was a fool. You made one of me. After what Black has done to me, after what he would almost have done to the both of us, it is still him you want. But I admit that I should have known that your interest wasn't in me but in him." He stopped, took another deep breath, and tried to swallow the bitter taste in his mouth. He wasn't angry now, he only felt humiliated and regretful.

"You weren't the last to tear apart my dignity last night, but you were definitely the one who damaged it most. You saw what I felt, but you didn't care. You cared more about your precious Black! I cared for you and you spat in my face! And when I was standing there face to face with your betrayal, with the truth about you and your supposed feelings for me, I just wanted you to suffer! I wanted you to feel what I was feeling! I wanted to hurt you … and I wanted to hurt Black for taking everything from me." When he paused to look at Remus, he saw that his amber eyes were lowered. "So don't ever talk to me of love again," Severus concluded bitterly. "It was an excellent lie, it has served its purpose. But now it is just insulting."

That was all. There was nothing more to say. There was only one more thing that burnt on his tongue. But it was much too late for that now. He should have made up his mind and loosened his timid tongue sooner. Much sooner. But then, how much more vulnerable would he have been if he had said what he should have said? And would it have changed anything at all? Suddenly he noticed that his fist was still clenched very tightly, almost painfully, round Remus's wand in his pocket. That was the only part of Remus that he had a firm grip on. And yet, he couldn't control it. He couldn't break it. He couldn't give it back. He couldn't keep it. He needed it to hold on to.

After a few moments' silence, Remus cleared his throat to make his voice obey him. "I understand now why you did what you did last night," he said, his voice hoarser than ever.

"You understand why, after caring for you and making sure you didn't have to suffer, I ended up making you suffer as hard as I could?" said Severus in a deadly whisper. "Why don't you share your insights with me, then?"

"You are feeling ashamed," said Remus, and it was an assertion, not a question. "Which is a sign that what motivated you last night was not sheer anger, but deep pain. A pain that I inflicted, inadvertently so, but still."

He paused, and walked round the desk, quite slowly, not approaching Severus directly. Severus could smell his licorice scent quite clearly now, mixed with something earthy. And at this closer range, Severus could also see the bruises on Remus's face where the cords had bound him last night. Where they had shut his mouth for saying something other than "I love you" to Severus. It made brutally clear to Severus that he had lost control. Had robbed Remus of his dignity, his humanity. The shame filled him right up now. It was unbelievable that this tender feeling, right here in his chest, the one that he couldn't embrace, had made him do this.

"However," Remus went on, looking straight ahead, past Severus's shoulder, "I suppose that you won't want to listen to an explanation, or an apology."

"I don't!" Severus said forcefully, exasperated at Remus's calm patience. "I don't care for your apologies or your explanations! Why should I even listen to something that I cannot believe?"

"I'm sorry that you think you cannot believe me anymore," said Remus quietly, still not looking at him. "I do realise that it is my own fault for breaking your trust, but I don't know how to make you understand if you don't want to listen."

"I do understand," Severus snapped and humiliation got the better of him again, and with it anger that pushed aside the shame. "You had to make a choice, and you chose Black, how could I not understand?"

"There was no choice to make, Severus," said Remus placidly.

Severus didn't say anything. He wanted to hear what Remus had to say, of course he did, that was why he was here. He wanted to know how big his regret needed to be, how deep his shame, how intense his disappointment. He wanted closure to be able to cope. He wanted to know if he had truly been loved and betrayed, or if he had been used and never loved at all. It made a difference. It did. If Remus loved him, if he just didn't trust him enough, Severus had made a mistake, like Albus had said. If Remus loved Black, however, or if he just didn't love Severus, Severus had been right in blaming Remus, in severing all bonds between them. Even if Severus's reaction had been extreme in any case, if Remus was guilty of all charges he would at least have deserved a fraction of the punishment Severus had given him. But Severus was scared, too, of what Remus had to say. He didn't know which truth would be harder to bear.

"There is probably little hope of repairing the damage I have done," Remus continued, now looking straight at Severus again, "but it is still very important to me that I clarify a few things. You appear to be under the false impression that I was in league with Sirius all year long, and what's more that I had some kind of affair or relationship with him. What he means to me is quite easy to explain and quite unromantic: he is all that is left of a time in my life when I was happy, of a group of the only friends I've ever had. And when I realised that you were going to take him from me without even so much as listening to me, I reacted rather coldly, I know. I was insensitive. At that moment I didn't take into account what was going on inside you, apart from finding your worst enemy in that Shack. You also found me with him and arrived at all kinds of, perhaps logical, but also fatally wrong conclusions. You asked me directly once if I had ever felt anything beyond friendship for Sirius, and I did not lie when I said that I never did. Also, I did not help him, had not talked to him or seen him in fourteen years until I saw Peter on the Marauder's Map yesterday and realised that things were not as they had seemed all this time.

"I concede, however, that I lied about not knowing how Sirius had entered the castle, or how Harry had left it undetected, for that matter, because I did not trust you enough at the time to reveal to you what I had been afraid of telling anyone ever since my school days, for shame and the fear of disappointing the only people who matter to me. If I had kept to my own advice and trusted you fully, believed that you would stand by me, we might be in a completely different place now. I didn't have enough faith in you, I admit. Still, I want to make it plain that I never lied about anything that concerned you or my feelings for you –" when Severus made to interrupt, Remus raised his voice, "– I know you don't want me to speak of it, but when I said that I loved you, it was no lie, and when I enjoyed your company it was no act. It was good and it was true from first to last."

"Oh, please," said Severus, and it came out more like a plea than anything else, "spare me the pity."

"I know why you are so determined to insist that I never loved you," said Remus and he sounded understanding, "but what we shared did not serve any ulterior purpose. I believed Sirius a murderer just like you did, I only wanted to protect myself with my lies, which is shameful enough, but I never meant anything else by keeping you close than to use the time I had with you while I could. And believe me, I am just as disappointed in myself as you are, not least of all because I made myself believe that it was too late to tell you the truth, when I saw Peter on the Map. I should have called you, explained everything, and gone together with you. But I didn't. And I cannot make that undone."

"No, you can't," whispered Severus, refusing to believe that Remus was telling the truth now, just so he wouldn't fall apart right here and now, "you can't unfeel what I felt last night, you can't unthink those horrid thoughts, and you can't undo the damage it did us. Nor can I for you. And I regret now that I ever let you get to me in the first place."

"I know that I am at fault for the irreparable damage to our relationship," replied Remus quietly, rubbing his wrist where Severus's ropes had cut into his skin. "But that is also why I need you to decide whether our relationship can survive it."

Severus looked into those amber eyes – two cauldrons full of Felix Felicis. But fake luck was not enough. Severus now realised that Remus's words did not change what he felt. They intensified some emotions, dulled others, and made the pain even less bearable. But if they were lies or truth didn't change that Severus could not forgive what had passed between them. He could neither forgive Remus his lies and lack of trust, nor could he forgive himself for his brutality in the face of Remus's supposed betrayal. For the rest of his life, whenever he looked at Remus, he would always see him lying on the ground, bound and gagged, ready to be thrown to the Dementors for having taken from Severus the bliss of being loved and trusted. And he would forever question what Remus said to him, would forever wonder if he was truly his. He could never trust him again.

And why would Remus feel any different?

"I don't understand what you are saying," said Severus flatly, feeling suddenly numb.

"I don't want to lose you, Severus," said Remus gently, leaning against the desk that had used to be his. "I can live with what happened, I love you enough to overlook what happened in a night of misunderstandings and pain. But I cannot make that decision for you."

"But – why –" Severus stammered, taken aback. Why, indeed, would Remus even want to be touched by him ever again?

"Because that is what love is about," said Remus, closing his eyes as if in sudden agony, "cherishing a person as they are. All of them, be it flaws or perfections. We already knew each other's perfections and I daresay we have now proven just how flawed we both are. We know each other in completion now, there are no more illusions, no more idealistic dreams. It might have been painful to find out the truth about each other, but it also lends our feelings more weight. I, for my part, still love you and I am ready to stay with you. You must figure out what you feel and what you want to do now."

Severus didn't know what to reply. All year when he had looked at Remus he had seen perfection. Everything about their relationship had been perfect and meaningful and as though it was all as it was supposed to be. Now he looked at Remus and saw what had happened last night, saw how, by lying to Severus, he had made him destroy everything, saw how he had suffered at Severus's hands. It was no longer perfect. Everything lay shattered on the ground. And it mattered that Severus was largely at fault. Yes, if Remus had trusted him, if he had not lied … but what about Severus? What he had done was far worse in relation. Remus had brought it about, but Severus had shown the worst he was capable of. He had not only hurt Remus physically, he had also betrayed his trust in the worst possible manner. And the fact that Remus still had such kind words for him and didn't look at him in disgust or horror was almost unbearable.

Severus half wished to be back in Albus's office to listen to his disappointment and see his disgust because he now knew and accepted that he deserved it. No, he couldn't forgive Remus for hurting and lying to him, but much less could he forgive himself for what he had done to Remus, for doing something that could not be undone and that would forever overshadow what they had shared. And nor could he forgive Remus for having caused all that. For having brought forth Severus's true face. Worthy of a Death Eater, indeed. And utterly unworthy of Remus's love. Severus remembered with a pang that he had once promised Remus to punish the person who would spill his secret. Little had he known that he would have to punish himself. He hadn't meant for all this to happen. He hadn't had any interest whatsoever in saving or hurting anyone, had just wanted to bring back his werewolf. And in so doing, he had lost him. And himself.

Very slowly he pulled Remus's wand out of his pocket and looked down at it in resignation. The carved wood still felt very heavy. Looking up at Remus, Severus simply held the wand in his hand. Remus's golden eyes glanced at it, then round at all his belongings and his empty suitcase. He needed his wand to be able to leave. Suddenly Severus's grip on the wand became very tight.

"Thank you very much for retrieving my wand, Severus," Remus said quietly but didn't hold out his hand to take it back. "I thought I'd never see it again."

"I merely happened upon it," Severus muttered monotonously.

"Then I thank you for taking it along," replied Remus. This short exchange sounded so very strange to Severus. So completely void of the strong emotions that had determined their actions up to now. Like talking to a stranger, as though nothing had ever passed between them since last summer. Remus gave a wan smile. "It produces fine magic, don't you think?"

"I wouldn't know," muttered Severus and swished and flicked the wand, leaving a trail of randomly exploding objects on Remus's desk instead of making an inkpot fly. He held it out to Remus resentfully. He would have to let go of it. "It doesn't work for me, even though I overpowered you," he added, as Remus took it from him.

"The wand chooses the wizard," said Remus knowingly and mended the exploded objects, smiling sadly. "It felt as if my arm were missing," he muttered.

"Why would it choose you over me?" asked Severus indignantly. Not even a piece of wood wanted anything to do with him.

Remus sighed. "Because, though you overpowered me, you didn't defeat me," he said almost wearily. "Because, in spite of what you did to me last night, there is something that I am capable of that you are not."

"And what is that supposed to be?" growled Severus.

"Forgiveness," said Remus simply, stowing his wand away in his belt.

"I beg your pardon?" said Severus incredulously. "I don't recall asking for forgiveness."

"No, indeed," said Remus with a sad look on his face, "and yet I forgive you."

Severus couldn't quite believe his ears. "I intentionally inflicted pain on you, I treated you like a criminal and threatened you with the Dementor's Kiss, I spilled your best kept secret, which I vowed never to do, I hurt you for the sole purpose of relieving my own pain and vengefully transferred it all to you," Severus said quietly, listing all his crimes and feeling the guilt weighing him down, "and yet you forgive me?" And now he knew what that unpleasant taste in his mouth was that had bothered him for some time now. Revenge didn't taste sweet at all. It was very bitter.

"Yes," affirmed Remus simply. He was so calm still, so patient. After all that had passed, after losing Severus, his post at Hogwarts, and the chance to return to the anonymous life he had led before, how could it be that he was so at peace? Sad, yes, and maybe as bitter as Severus, but also serene. "That is the easy part. The hard part, and you will know this better than anyone, is to forgive oneself."

"Wha– … I … don't understand," said Severus, intrigued by the calm that washed over him as he looked at Remus.

"I don't regret anything that happened between us, and it hurts me to know that you do," Remus said quietly and paused, screwing up his eyes for a moment as though that thought had struck him quite suddenly. "I know that I have made mistakes," he continued, even hoarser than before, "but as misguided as it was, I did it all for love. And all I can do now is to say that I am sorry, and to beg your forgiveness."

There was a single tear running down his cheek as he opened his eyes again, like a lonesome witness of his pain. And Severus felt less alone as he saw it, as he found that Remus regretted, that he suffered, that he was hurting. It didn't give him that perverse satisfaction he had felt last night, but it relieved him in a pure, unsullied way that filled him with inexplicable gratitude and made that tender feeling swell in his chest. But it was no good. It was too late. And while Remus claimed that it was all his fault, Severus knew, saw quite clearly now in the tear Remus had shed, that he was wrong. It was Severus's fault, all of it.

"I cannot forgive," said Severus softly. Remus closed his eyes. It hurt dreadfully to look at him now. And it made everything worse that Severus could still feel him, smell him, taste him. He wanted to embrace him. "And I don't understand how you can."

"Maybe not quite yet," said Remus softly, "maybe you aren't ready to accept it, but I know that what you did, you did out of love, even if it felt like hatred. I know you are coming to realise it as we speak. I choose to cherish that love, because I have never been loved so powerfully." As he spoke, Remus reached out a hand to touch Severus's jaw and let his warm fingers ghost over Severus's cold skin for what Severus knew would be the last time. "And just know that once you are ready to accept that a love so strong is too precious to let it go to waste, once you have forgiven yourself, I will be there, waiting for you."

"I never said that I love you," Severus said tonelessly and it was more a question why he deserved forgiveness despite this fact than a mere statement of the truth, or verbal defiance. Remus smiled vaguely, as Severus should have expected he would.

"No, indeed," said he again and leant in to brush his lips against Severus's with deliberate tenderness.

Severus forced himself not to respond but as Remus pulled back and Severus looked into his dull amber eyes, he regretted not having indulged in that last kiss. Regret was a horrible feeling. Even more so because it made Severus more aware that he could not change anything, had no Time-Turner to go back and slap some sense into himself. Remus withdrew his hand and all the warmth Severus had felt since that very first kiss in the dark staircase drained from him and left him cold and freezing. All they had shared seemed to be tumbling into Remus's palm. And the loss of it felt ever so much worse even than the regret. The stinging in his eyes grew stronger. And when he looked at Remus, he saw that behind his eyes he, too, was holding back tears.

"If it means so much to you," Severus whispered, "then why don't you cry for it? When I know that you want to …"

"I have no right to cry," replied Remus matter-of-factly, and Severus found him so handsome still, with that sorrow in his eyes that was felt for him. "I am infinitely grateful for the time that I was granted with you, here at Hogwarts. And even if this should mark the end of it, I am not entitled to shedding tears. I always knew that it might not last, but the only thing I want to allow myself to feel now is gratitude for the love I found in you."

Severus felt constricted. He didn't dare speak now, looking into Remus's eyes as the full weight of those words came down on him and impressed upon him his own guilt, invisible but everlasting. He would never again be able to look at Remus without feeling that guilt. He just _couldn't_ forgive himself. And the feeling that was at the core of it all tormented him, caused him immeasurable pain as he looked upon what he had lost. Had all the pleasure been worth this frightful pain, after all?

As long as they looked into each other's eyes, Severus was somehow transfixed, though there appeared to be nothing more to say. He wished that they could stay frozen like this forever, so he wouldn't have to face the consequences of this conversation and everything that had led to it. So he would never have to live on without Remus. But as everything, taking this step seemed to be far easier for Remus than it was for him.

Remus broke eye contact, took a step back, and retreated behind his desk, rubbing his wrist again. A quick glance at the map and he cleared his throat. "Harry is on his way here," he said mildly, detached again, as though they were strangers now that Severus had not had the strength to say otherwise. "You should probably leave."

Severus looked at him, trying to catch his eye but failing. He wondered for a moment whether he should say goodbye, but he couldn't. He wouldn't. He reached for the goblet on the desk, vanished its contents and turned to leave. At the door, knob already in hand, Severus hesitated. There was something he needed to know. And who better than Remus to answer it? He did not turn round, but spoke to the door.

"I wonder, Remus," he said quietly, half hoping that Remus wouldn't hear, "would it have made any difference if –"

"Don't dwell on the past, Severus," Remus interrupted him, sounding rather sad now, not detached at all. "No one can tell you what would have happened if … Think about what you want to make of the future instead. That is something that actually makes a difference." There was that finality in his voice that told Severus that he had better leave if he didn't have anything more to say.

"I really thought that you were my future," Severus said hopelessly. Remus didn't reply. Severus realised that what he had said might have hurt Remus even more. It was time to go.

Taking a last glance round the office that he had so long wished to remain Remus's, finding that Remus was staring at the map, perhaps unable to watch Severus leave, he exited without another word, closing the door behind him, shutting in the painful memories of a long gone blue moon, a long withered mistletoe, and two long cooled cups of tea. It felt as if he had lived a hundred lives in lonely pain since then. He remained standing in front of the door for another few seconds, fully aware of the fact that Remus was watching him on that blasted map of his. But one of the few things he wasn't ashamed of today was that it was hard for him to walk away from Remus.

Taking a deep breath, he convinced his feet to start moving. He ignored the hurried opening of Remus's door behind him, and the burning of Remus's eyes on his back. He wished that Remus would hold him back, but he knew it was in vain. So he just kept walking. It would have been no good, anyway. For all the world he could not forgive. Their connection had been damaged beyond repair by his hand. And leaving behind the one who loved him, as hard as it was, was the only thing he had the strength to do.

Severus knew why the wand had chosen to stay in Remus's possession. The werewolf had power over Severus that had only been strengthened, not weakened, last night. Yes, Remus was the teacher and Severus was the student. And he had failed his final test, had run out of time, had answered the last question wrong. And though Severus tried to run from it, the grief was following him at his heels. It caught up with him when he reached the Great Hall and noticed the carriage in front of the gates. The Thestral that was harnessed to it looked Severus straight in the eye and he stopped in his tracks, staring back at it. He couldn't go back to his old life. This unwanted feeling was like having seen death for the first time. It changed everything.

Severus retreated into the shadows of the stairway that led to his office, when Albus entered the Entrance Hall, striding to the stairs and ascending them, probably on his way to tell Remus that his carriage was ready. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout had gathered just outside the front doors, looking rather dejected. They wanted to say goodbye, something that Severus hadn't been able to do. Remus, it had seemed, didn't think that this was goodbye. Severus lingered in the shadows, waiting to watch Remus depart forever.

Only a few minutes later, Remus descended the stairs into the Entrance Hall, carrying the glass tank under his arm and his suitcase in his hand. As he noticed his former colleagues waiting at the doors, he stopped for a moment, clearly uncomfortable. Severus was sure that Remus would rather have left without meeting anyone on the way. The werewolf bowed his head, heaved a sigh, then straightened his back, raising his chin to continue to the doors proudly. Severus thought he saw the ermine and purple around his shoulders as Remus walked like an exiled king, betrayed by those closest to him but determined to keep his dignity in the face of those who pitied him and those who hated him alike. Gracious, forgiving, and just, even to those who didn't deserve it.

Remus awkwardly accepted handshakes from all three Heads of Houses after he had stowed his luggage in the carriage. It seemed to Severus as though it was all happening in slow-motion. For a moment he thought he might have the strength to go after Remus and beg him to stay, or at least bid an adequate farewell. To shake his hand like the others had. To fall to his knees in front of him, and kiss the ermine-trimmed hem of his robes, vow his devotion, and ask him to take him back, after all. But what right did he have to do that after causing his king's exile, after betraying him in the worst of ways? How could he ever look into his golden eyes again?

And with the air of someone climbing into a carriage that was gilded and drawn by white horses, Remus opened one of the doors, and then turned towards Severus just before getting on, those eyes shining across the Hall into the darkness where Severus was standing, two pools of gold, piercing him where he had thought he was hidden. Remus nodded at him and the mild, loving smile was sweet, yet bitter. Severus wanted to kiss it away. Like so many others before it. He would miss being smiled at like that. Then Remus hurriedly disappeared in the carriage, was gone – just like that. And wasn't he hurrying because he wanted to be alone with his grief? Because he couldn't but cry, now that nobody was watching? Cry _because_ he was grateful, not in spite of it, though Severus still couldn't fathom why anyone would cry about losing him. The Thestral took off and Severus looked after it until it disappeared from view. And all the while, that mocking feeling deep inside him was deepening the agony, intensifying the despair. Such horrible irony.

Severus turned round and walked slowly down into the dungeons, his steps echoing in the empty corridors. His rooms felt frightfully empty, the glass cabinets lay shattered on the floor still. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. The cracking and crunching when Severus treaded on the glass made him flinch. It was as if he were walking over the remainders of the good he had destroyed between Remus and him.

Severus slumped down on the sofa and stared into the empty grate. He would have to get rid of this sofa. For right here, where he was sitting now, Remus had confessed the most wondrous thing Severus had ever heard. He had never been loved before. He was feeling more alone than ever before. Setting down the goblet he was still clutching in his hand, Severus buried his face in his hands. Remus's finger prints were still there, clearly visible on the glass. Severus touched the gold rim and found the traces Remus's lips had left behind when he had last drunk the Potion. Deciding to keep it like a relic, Severus got up again to place the goblet in one of the cupboards in his laboratory to store it away in the darkest, backmost corner of it as if he were hiding the most precious treasure, careful not to obliterate Remus's traces on the glass and gold.

As he returned to his sitting room, his eyes fell on the bookcase and he noticed the many unknown books in it, next to the two Remus had given to him, which were still safely locked in their glass compartment. They were all the missing volumes to the collection. Severus's stomach churned when he ran his numb fingers over their backs, pulling one out at random to look into it. He touched a finger to the note in Remus's scrawled handwriting inside the binding, " _To my dear Severus_ ", and put the book back into the bookcase with trembling hands. Looking out of the window at the Whomping Willow, he realised that he could look anywhere, turn wherever he wanted, enter any of his rooms – everything reminded him of the werewolf. The whole castle did. He would have to resign and move out.

Severus's throat was very tight, his eyes were burning worse than ever. He entered the cold, empty bedroom and collapsed on what had used to be his side of the bed. Remus's scent was more present here than anywhere else, he had slept here the night before last. But he would never share Severus's bed again. Severus reached out a freezing hand to the other side of the bed, letting it slide over the icy silk sheets to feel that there was no one there. That he would never share Remus's warmth between the sheets again. That his old companion Loneliness had taken Remus's place.

Severus swallowed hard and gripped the silk tightly. It was his fault. Remus had relied on him and he had let him down. Remus was the first and only person who had ever loved him unconditionally and what had Severus done to repay him, to show him his gratitude? He felt ashamed of forgetting the Wolfsbane, of binding Remus, of treating him like a Dark creature, of threatening him, of betraying his trust. He was sure that he hadn't ever behaved worse. And even though Severus had never uttered the three words Remus would have liked to hear, he felt so very dependent, so very vulnerable. And he couldn't deny the source of those feelings, couldn't deny what made his eyes burn and his throat tight as for the first time in an incredibly long time he felt tears running down his face. The lump in his throat almost choked him as he tried to hold back desperate sobs. His body was shaking with the strain. His vision was blurred and his chest and throat hurt dreadfully. He would surely die of this pain. Of this hopeless yearning. He bit his bottom lip when an especially vicious sob managed to escape him, after all.

And there was another thing he wasn't ashamed of today, he – Severus Snape – had to cry as that strongest of feelings overwhelmed him, that feeling that had crept up on him surreptitiously to settle down and make itself at home in every ounce of his body. And as he finally welcomed it and accepted all the anguish it made him feel at this very moment, he couldn't help but throw Remus's advice to the wind, because that was what he did, that was who he was – he always regretted, he was living in the past, and he simply needed to wonder "what if" as he lay sobbing, hot tears burning his skin.

He wondered whether Remus would have trusted him more …

Whether yesterday's horrid events could have been prevented …

Whether they would be making plans for the summer now …

Whether it would have made any difference at all …

… if he had only told Remus what he felt.

If he had only told Remus that he loved him.

 _That you were once unkind befriends me now,_  
 _And for that sorrow, which I then did feel,_  
 _Needs must I under my transgression bow,_  
 _Unless my nerves were brass or hammered steel._  
 _For if you were by my unkindness shaken,_  
 _As I by yours, you've passed a hell of time;_  
 _And I, a tyrant, have no leisure taken_  
 _To weigh how once I suffered in your crime._  
 _O! that our night of woe might have remembered_  
 _My deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits,_  
 _And soon to you, as you to me, then tendered_  
 _The humble salve, which wounded bosoms fits!_  
 _But that your trespass now becomes a fee;_  
 _Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me._

 _ **William Shakespeare, Sonnet 120**_

 _FIN._


End file.
